Ghosts from the Past
by Livia Yoran
Summary: This is a Star Wars fan fic involving Jedi Master Eeth Koth in an alternative universe where he is raising his third padawan, Lok Dar. This involves comfort, bonding, but also spanking and other methods of punishment. If this is not your cup of tea, don't read on. Just for the record, I don't approve of the spanking of real children. This is fiction. D-uh.
1. Chapter 1: Eeth

Preliminary remarks:

This fan fiction is a stand-alone, but the description of its main character, Eeth Koth, is based on several years of writing in a Star Wars role-playing group that focussed on master-padawan relationships, including spanking and other forms of discipline. It loosely takes up themes from the Jedi Apprentice book series, for example the existence of a training bond between master and padawan, but also makes a lot of assumptions about the Star Wars universe that you're free to take or leave. Essentially, it places the character of Eeth Koth in an alternate universe (partly because the Clone Wars series wasn't out yet by a long shot when I started playing Eeth) where it is assumed that he had two padawans before this story starts: Lakhri Tumuel, who is human and growth-restricted (and just for the record, that was before Game of Thrones was out!), and Raven Trebeck, who is also human and has just been knighted. And that is about all you need to know in order to understand the story. If I left out important information, feel free to ask!

Chapter One: Eeth

Jedi Master Eeth Koth entered the empty common room, coming home from a strenuous workout in the weights room. He was not getting younger, and thus it was all the more important for him to stay in good shape. He took his training very seriously.

The door clicked shut behind him almost inaudibly as he put his gym bag down. He hung up his cloak, pulled off his boots, unpacked his gym bag and was truly and honestly left with nothing to do. He made himself some tea and switched on the holo news channel. The speaker went on and on about a vossball event. He switched it off again.

For the first time in his life, Eeth realised that he felt lonely; that he would have preferred the company of people to solitude. And that was a feeling he was rather unaccustomed to.

He had resigned his seat on the Council four years ago in order to be able to devote all his time and energy to preparing Raven for her knighting. This included the type of long-term missions that his position on the Council had never allowed for. Two years ago, Raven had passed her trials and had shortly afterwards been assigned her first mission. Currently, she was somewhere on the Outer Rim, hunting down a ring of slave traders. Flynt was approaching his own knighting; he and Lakhri were away on missions more often than not. Eeth himself had undertaken quite a few missions since Raven had moved out. Indeed, he now realised, he might have actively sought these missions because he might unconsciously have wanted to avoid the loneliness of his current Temple life. Now he was back from a rather taxing and lengthy undercover mission to Nal Hutta and the Council had decreed he needed a break. Presumably, he was going to be assigned a few classes in the upcoming cycle and he might also be put in charge of a Senate committee, but right now, he had no work to do and no one to meet. And he did not like that.

When Eeth had finished his tea while updating himself on the galactic news on the terminal, he went to the dining hall where he noticed at one of the tables Mal Shekkaf, a Jedi master he had worked with years ago on a previous mission. He liked Mal; the Iktotchi was one of the few people that he tended to stop and have some small talk with when they met.  
"Eeth!" said Mal as Eeth came over to his table with his tray. "I haven't seen you in ages. Are you alright?"  
Eeth pondered this question.  
"Too idle for my liking," he finally answered. "How about you? And your padawan? She cannot have been knighted already."  
Mal shook his head.  
"Not yet," he said. "She's practicing like mad for the sparring competition. She just had a very quick dinner and then was off to the gym."  
Eeth nodded.  
He had just taken his first spoonful of soup when Mal, out of the blue, asked: "Have you heard about Jerad Delapar?"  
Eeth was so surprised that he stared at Mal for a few long moments.  
"Jerad Delapar?" he asked slowly.

********  
He had been sixteen and Jerad nineteen. Jerad was a Twi'lek, ocean-green, tall, muscular and, in short, absolutely stunning-looking. He was also intelligent and mature, and he interacted with people with an ease that Eeth envied him for. At first, he admired the older padawan; then he caught himself fantasising about being engulfed by his strong arms, stroking his lekku, and doing things of a far more sexual nature.

One evening in the padawan lounge, they started talking and did not stop for hours, and that was highly unusual for Eeth. Then they met for a sparring session. And they met more and more often, until that fateful day in the mineral baths when Eeth would have forgotten all about his duties, his vows and resolutions if it had not been for Jerad's cool-headedness. Jerad had suggested they ask their masters for advice. Their masters had guided them through countless meditations; then Jerad had left on a mission, then Eeth; and in time Eeth had overcome his passion for the older padawan.

Now, as he heard Jerad's name, he realised that he had made quite an effort to avoid the man during the past decades - had it really been that long?

Forty years, an internal voice whispered. Exactly forty years.

"What about him?" he asked Mal, pulling himself out of his memories.  
"He suddenly died of a freak virus he had caught at an entirely unspectacular conference," said Mal. "And he left a thirteen-year-old-padawan behind. I've taught Lok in one of my classes. Quite an… interesting kid. I feel sorry for him."  
"May he become one with the Force," Eeth murmured automatically. His brain was still refusing to process the information he had just received. It was one thing to subconsciously or intentionally avoid Jerad for decades; but – Jerad, dead? The irony that Jerad had been struck by a fate that he himself had narrowly escaped some years ago did not escape Eeth.  
Of course, such things happened to Jedi; Eeth himself had during his time on the Council repeatedly had to deal with deceased masters or padawans. But not Jerad! Jerad had been strong and wise; that he should die so suddenly, for no higher purpose, was a cruel twist of fate.

Eeth made his way home some time later, not quite remembering how he had finished his dinner and his talk with Mal. He had honestly had no idea that hearing of Jerad's death would elicit such strong emotions in him. And that made him feel rather disquiet. What else, he wondered, did he keep hidden inside himself?  
That night, he sat on the balcony and meditated until the early hours of the morning.

Several days passed. As expected, and per his request, Eeth was put in charge of a Senate committee and spent a lot of time diligently studying reports and writing more reports. He was also informed what classes he would have to teach in the upcoming cycle and set to preparing them thoroughly. Besides, he drafted himself a schedule of workouts that would make sure he stayed in the best possible physical form, as well as of meditations that would make sure he did not lose his connection to the Force. In short, he was bent on keeping himself busy. And still, late at night his quarters felt lonely and Eeth felt his mind drawn to thoughts of what might have been…

He was just returning from a Senate session when his portable comm unit beeped. It was the frequency that signalled a call from the Council. He entered his quarters, let the door slide shut behind him and accepted the call.

"Eeth," said Mace Windu solemnly. "Do you have a moment?"  
"Yes," said Eeth, crossing over to the table and sitting down on a chair. "What is it?"  
"You've heard of Jerad Delapar's death?" asked Mace.  
"Yes," replied Eeth, his voice impassive. Mace, of course, had no idea of the feelings he had once had for Jerad, nor did anybody else; the only ones who had known this were his and Jerad's masters, and they were both dead.  
"Then you probably also know that he left a padawan, Lok Dar," said Mace.  
"Yes," said Eeth again. Lok Dar - that sounded like a Zabrak name. For a brief moment, he was tempted to think that this had some meaning, some deeper reason speaking of Jerad's memories of Eeth, but he discarded the idea immediately. After all, Lok had been Jerad's third padawan, and the first two had not been Zabrak, as far as he knew.

"Lok needs someone to take charge of him," said Mace. "Eventually, he'll also need a new master, but we're willing to give him time for that. However, he can't stay on his own. His grandmaster is deceased and his padawan siblings are unavailable. His former creche master is currently staying with him, but she will not be able to stay for long, and she doesn't have the impression that her presence is doing much to help the boy deal with his grief. A few knights and masters who are currently free have looked in on Lok, but he has refused to talk to them. A soul healer saw him today, and she suggested we try someone more… determined. Forgive me if I thought of you immediately."  
Eeth had to smile a little at that.  
"Determined is probably a good description," he said, "but you know I'm not exactly your first choice at dealing with emotional issues."  
"I think you underestimate yourself," said Mace. "Anyway, all I ask is that you give it a try. Visit the boy, try to get him to talk. He spends all the time in his bed in the quarters he shared with his former master. He needs to get out of there and find some way to get on with his life, at least just a little, step by step."  
"Alright," said Eeth. "I will give it a try."  
In his mind, he heard Yoda say: 'Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.'


	2. Chapter 2: Eeth

Eeth carefully studied the file about Padawan Lok Dar that Mace had sent him immediately after their call. According to his latest picture, Lok was nothing like Eeth; of course, Zabrak came in all shapes and sizes. Lok had light skin, short, brown hair, green eyes, a long nose and was rather thin. He had only just started sprouting horns and was not wearing tattoos, or at least not yet. He had been a padawan to Jerad for two years and seemed to have done fairly well. His records noted some disciplinary problems in the creche, but these had apparently stopped after Jerad had taken the boy on. Lok had done quite well in school, with slightly above-average grades in every subject, including some advanced classes. He had also been on a number of missions, mostly diplomatic affairs, including the conference that had got his master killed.

Next, Eeth called Master Neverin, the creche master currently in charge of the boy. She was a gentle, elderly human, and she seemed at her wit's end.  
"I can get him to eat and drink, but that's about it," she said. "He doesn't talk, neither to me nor to the Council members. He talked a little to the soul healer, I think, but only because she threatened to stay until he did. He just lies on his bed and stares at the wall. I think he cries a lot, but never when I see him. I don't think he sleeps much. The soul healer says it would be good for him to leave the quarters he shared with his master, but I can't even convince him to leave his room."  
"Alright," said Eeth. "Then I will just have to try and convince him, won't I?"

He thought for a while. Then he packed his gym bag and made his way to Lok's quarters. Master Neverin let him in and pointed him to Lok's room. It wouldn't have been hard to find even without her help; Lok's and Jerad's quarters had the exact same layout as Eeth's. Eeth just threw a brief look at the common room that was decorated with a number of unusual paintings. He realised that he had no clue how Jerad had spent the past forty years of his life; but he did not waste much time on such musings. Instead, he put his gym bag down and knocked on Lok's door. There was no reply. Neverin motioned for him to go in.

Eeth entered the room and closed the door behind himself. Lok was lying on his bed, his back turned to him, and gave no sign that he had noticed him.  
"Good afternoon," said Eeth. "I am Jedi Master Eeth Koth. Would you pay me the courtesy to sit up and look at me?"  
Lok briefly and almost imperceptibly shook his head.  
"Go'way," he murmured.  
"If you think I'm going to allow you to order me around, you are very much mistaken," Eeth said firmly. He pulled out Lok's desk chair, sat down and rested his elbows on his knees.  
"I've known your master," he said matter-of-factly, "and I think he taught you more manners. Now stop this silliness and sit up."  
The last bit was spoken in a tone of voice that made it very clear that this was an order and that Eeth expected Lok to obey. Lok seemed to realise this, too. After a brief pause, he rolled around and slowly sat up, but he refused to look Eeth in the face. Eeth could see that he had been crying a lot, and the shadows beneath his eyes showed that he had hardly slept.  
"So, are you another one in the parade of prospective masters the Council has been sending to see me?" Lok said sullenly. "I'm not interested in all these blind dates, thank you very much."  
"And I hardly think you're ready to take on a new master," Eeth retorted. "However, you need someone to take care of you and to help you through this time. Since you did not volunteer any names, the Council are doing their best to come up with someone."  
"I don't need anyone," Lok said obstinately.  
"Nonsense," Eeth replied brusquely. "Master Neverin cannot stay indefinitely, and even if she could, you need more than someone who makes you eat and drink occasionally. For a start, when have you last left these quarters?"  
Lok gave him a scrutinising look. For the first time, he seemed to see Eeth properly.  
"That is none of your business," he said, but it sounded a tad uncertain.  
"And that," said Eeth very firmly, "is no way to talk to a superior Jedi who has asked you a question. When?"  
Lok sighed.  
"Not since... my master was..." he whispered, then broke off, ducking his head.  
Very gently, Eeth said: "Refusing to say it out loud will not make it go away, you know. You haven't left your quarters since your master was incinerated?"  
Very briefly, an image of nineteen-year-old Jerad welled up in him. Jerad as he had been in the mineral pools, strong and graceful; lying on his back, his lekku crossed upon his chest, his body going up in flames.  
Lok gave a tiny, jerky nod, his eyes fixed on the floor.  
"Right," said Eeth, rising from his chair. "Grab your gym bag and come."  
Lok frowned. "Come where?"  
Eeth snorted. "To the gym, obviously."  
"But I don't want to go to the gym!" Lok protested. Apparently he realised how childish this sounded for his cheeks flushed a faint pink.  
Eeth raised his eyebrows.  
"I bet you haven't been able to pull that one off since the junior creche, if at all," he said pointedly. "You might not want it, but I assure you that you need it. And besides, I gave you an order."  
At thirteen years of age, Lok was old enough to know that when a Jedi Master gave explicit orders, it was a good idea to do as one was told. He obeyed with a scowl on his face, but he obeyed. Creche Master Neverin gave them a very surprised look as Eeth and Lok exited the bedroom, Lok carrying his gym bag and Eeth picking up his.  
"Take a break, Master Neverin," Eeth told her. "Look after your creche group if you like. I'll give you a call later."  
With this, he escorted Lok out the door.


	3. Chapter 3: Lok

While they changed, Lok threw furtive looks at the unknown Jedi who had bullied him into leaving his room. Of course, he had heard of Eeth Koth. The man had been on the Council until a few years ago, and he had a reputation of being really, really strict. But he had not been on the Council any longer when Lok had been made a padawan, and he probably hadn't been around the Temple much these past years, or Lok ought to have seen him at least occasionally; especially if it was true that he knew his master. And why should it not be true? Lok had yet to meet a Jedi who lied to him.

Master Koth was nearly, but not quite, as tall as his master had been. A little less broad-shouldered, but no less muscular, and a Zabrak like himself. His shiny black hair was flowing down his back, pulled into two loose braids. It had a few streaks of grey that suggested he was not as young as he looked at first glance, probably more around Master Delapar's age. Unlike Lok, Eeth was tattooed, so he had decided to go through the rites of passage. All Zabrak Jedi were given that option as teenagers, but Lok had been undecided so far. He fleetingly noticed a number of scars as Eeth shed his tunic and changed into a workout shirt. He was certainly a Jedi of great experience.

That this was the case became immediately obvious when Eeth, after a few rather strenuous warm-up exercises, started chasing Lok through the gym in what was supposed to be freestyle combat, but consisted mostly of Lok stumbling away from the Jedi Master's fast and precise attacks. At best, he managed to block them. Of course, he hadn't had any exercise for a week now, and it showed. Besides, his heart was not in this at all, but unfortunately, Eeth did not seem to be particularly forgiving about that fact.  
"Focus," he barked, coming at Lok with a complex attack sequence. More out of instinct than out of conscious thought, Lok went into the counterattack sequence that his master had relentlessly drilled him in just a month before his death. It forced Eeth to jump out of harm's way.  
"Good," Eeth said approvingly. "So you do know how to spar."  
And he came in again, not leaving Lok a second to gather his thoughts. The boy was forced to rely on his instinct and his sense of the Force. Lok had not wanted to rely on the Force at all. The Force had taken his master. He resented the idea of meditating; he had outright refused to do so during the past week. But he registered with grudging admiration that Eeth had driven him to draw on the Force within less than fifteen minutes after entering the gym.

After a while, Lok came to wonder for how long Eeth was planning on continuing this. He had hardly slept for a week, and the fight was fast driving him to the point of exhaustion. He could be tenacious, though; less well-meaning people would call it stubbornness. So he kept on even though he was panting, drenched in sweat and increasingly unsteady on his feet. Only when he was just about to humiliate himself by pleading for mercy, did Eeth call the fight to a stop.  
"Walk around the gym three times and drink some water," he told Lok. "Then we will take a shower and get changed."

As he walked, Lok realised that he was tired to the bone. He did not want to sleep, though; it felt sacrilageous to just give in to sleep when his master... his master... He swiped at his eyes angrily and quickened his steps, feeling Eeth's gaze on him. It did not irk him as he thought it should, and that was another thing he found frustrating.

They showered in silence, Lok fighting hard against the exhaustion he felt. He did not even sit down to pull on his socks and shoes for fear of not being able or willing to get up again.  
"Come," Eeth told him as they emerged from the gym, and turned into entirely the wrong direction.  
Lok stopped.  
"Where are we going?" he inquired.  
"To a meditation garden," replied Eeth. "And before you ask the next obvious question: We are going there in order to meditate."  
Lok's lips tightened into a firm line.  
"I don't want to meditate," he said, and this time he was too angry to care how childish this sounded.  
"I think we have already established how far this line of argument is going to get you," Eeth said sternly. "You might not want to meditate, but you need to. Therefore, we are going. Now come."  
"No," said Lok, his green eyes flashing.  
Eeth raised his eyebrows.  
"Do you honestly think you'll get away with telling me no?" he asked calmly. "If you do, think again."  
"I said no, and I meant it," Lok ground out. He was shaking with exhaustion, but he was determined not to give in.  
Less than five seconds later, he found himself tucked under Eeth's arm and something rather painful exploding on his bottom.  
"Fuck!" he yelled, not feeling inclined to be particularly polite. Besides, this hurt like the dickens. Apparently, though, this was the wrong answer because the next swat felt twice as hard if that was even possible.  
He hissed and stamped his foot. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw a few passing knights throwing them curious looks, and that gave him an idea.  
"Leave me alone!" he yelled. "You're not my master! You have no right!"  
Eeth did not even dignify that with a response, nor did the knights. They just exchanged a look with Eeth and kept walking.  
Lok hissed, stamped, twisted and wriggled his way around the next set of painful swats. And then exhaustion and pain became too much and he started to cry.  
He cried in deep, heaving sobs. At some point, he became aware that he had been pulled up and was crying into Eeth's robes. Had he been less exhausted, he would probably have minded, but right now he needed all the comfort he could get, not to speak of the support that Eeth's broad chest offered, since he felt very unsteady on his legs. He leaned his head against Eeth's chest, hid his face in the older Jedi's tunic and cried and cried.

A very long while later, his sobs died down a little. Eeth wordlessly handed him a handkerchief and waited until he had cleaned up his face. Then he picked up both their gym bags and said in a low, surprisingly gentle voice: "Come. You might not want to meditate, but you need to. The longer you shirk away from it, the harder it will become."

Lok felt too weak and confused to resist any longer. He allowed himself to be escorted into the nearest meditation garden where Eeth picked a secluded corner for them and sat down in a cross-legged position, beckoning for Lok to sit opposite him. Lok complied, feeling utterly drained, emotionally shattered and unable to argue. He drew a deep, shaking breath, closed his eyes, entered a meditative trance and lowered his shields the tiniest bit, just enough for Eeth to link with him. He half expected Eeth to reprimand him for this and ask for more, and he honestly did not know whether he would be able to bear that. But Eeth said nothing; he merely linked with Lok and sent him a tiny hint of approval through their link that Lok was very grateful for.

Connecting with the Force felt exactly the same as it had done before his master had died. Lok did not know whether he felt relief or anger at the realisation. But he was suddenly glad that he was not doing this on his own. Eeth's Force presence was there to lean on, just like his chest had been, back in the corridor. It felt calm, solid and entirely unobtrusive; it demanded nothing. Lok was so thankful for this that he hesitantly dropped his shields a little further. And then, he knew no more.


	4. Chapter 4: Lok

When Lok came to, he was disoriented. It was semi-dark; he blinked several times and finally realised that this was because the curtains were drawn to keep the sunlight out. He was lying on an entirely unfamiliar couch in a common room that resembled his own in layout, but was different in all other respects.

Hoisting himself up on his elbows, he found that Eeth was sitting in an armchair, reading. Just in this moment, though, as if he'd sensed Lok's look, the Jedi Master raised his eyes from his data pad and gave Lok a small smile.  
"Where am I?" Lok asked in a rather accusatory voice. The effect was diminished by the dryness of his throat; it came out as a kind of croak.  
"My quarters," said Eeth matter-of-factly. "Shall I get you some tea or do you prefer water?"  
Lok was too thirsty to reject this offer.  
"Water, please," he said.  
When Eeth had returned with a tall glass of water, he gulped it down thirstly and asked: "What time is it?"  
"Half past eleven in the morning," said Eeth. "You went out like a light and have slept for seventeen hours. You obviously needed the sleep."  
But I didn't want it!, Lok wanted to yell. He didn't voice that thought, though. Eeth had told him quite clearly that he was not interested in what Lok wanted. On the other hand, the man had told him repeatedly that he was very adamant about what Lok needed. That felt strangely comforting. And Lok felt immediately guilty for feeling that way.

Eeth gave him a scrutinising look.  
"You give the impression that you begrudge yourself the sleep you had," he said. "Why?"  
Lok's first impulse was to tell the man that it was none of his business, but he remembered the reaction that response had garnered him the last time he'd given it.  
"I should be grieving for my master," he said in a small voice. "How can I just go on with my life when he's ... I mean..."  
"When he's dead?" Eeth said mercilessly. "How can you NOT go on with your life? What do you think your master would have wanted for you to do? That you jump off the top of the tallest spire?"  
Lok stared at Eeth. He was not used to such bluntness. During the past week, people had tried to treat him with so much tact that it made him want to scream. He had to concede that Eeth had a point.  
"No, of course he wouldn't have wanted that," he admitted, unaccountably feeling tears pricking his eyelids again. "But I can't help feeling guilty. I'm... sometimes the grief is so overwhelming that I don't know how to go on. At other times, I think of other things, nearly forgetting my grief - and then I feel as if I'm forgetting my master. I think that's what I feel guilty about."  
Eeth looked at him thoughtfully.  
"You will need to learn to separate the two - the grief and the memories of your master," he said. "Getting over your grief, which will take long enough as it is, is not the same thing as forgetting your master. Rationally, you are probably aware of this, but your feelings will not be as easy to change. It will take time and effort, a lot of both. I will be happy to provide whatever help I can, but ultimately, nobody can take this burden from you."  
"What do you mean, you will provide help?" Lok asked, frowning. "So you just decided to take over, huh?"  
"Oh yes," said Eeth matter-of-factly. "And in light of the fact that I was the first person who had any success at getting you out of your bed, the Council entirely agrees with that decision. Now understand that this is not a decision over your future in the Order. Eventually, when you are ready for it, the Force will guide you to a new master. For now, I will merely be your caretaker."  
"Don't I get any say in this?" Lok asked hotly, sitting up completely and wincing slightly as he was reminded by the lingering sting in his bottom of the scene in the corridor yesterday. What in Force's name had the man hit him with and where had he produced it from?  
Eeth raised his eyebrows at the question.  
"Do you have a better proposal?" he inquired.  
"Well - uh - not right now, no," Lok admitted, "but -"  
"Do you have a serious problem with this arrangement?" Eeth cut him short.  
"Well, I hardly know you!" Lok exclaimed.  
"In that case, it will please you to learn that, contrary to popular belief, I don't eat children," Eeth said. "And I think you are arguing for argument's sake."  
Lok did not know what to reply to this because it was entirely true. He was not unhappy with this arrangement at all; it just irked him that he hadn't been asked.  
"Oh, alright then," he conceded. "Are you moving in with me?"  
"No, you are moving in with me," replied Eeth. "And there's really no need to start arguing again. Being stuck in the quarters you shared with your master has not done you any good. Besides, as heartless as it must feel to you, they are needed. Master Neverin has been kind enough to pack up all your things and send them here. I've got a spare bedroom that will be yours. As a temporary arrangement until you are ready to take on a new master, this is really for the best."  
Lok was glad that he would at least have a say in the matter of taking on a new master. He did not plan on that happening any time soon, but Eeth did not need to know that.  
"What about my master's things?" he asked. "The paintings? He's done them himself."  
Eeth had not known that about Jerad. He was fairly certain that the Twi'lek had not been painting at the time he had been involved with him. But forty years were a long time, he reminded himself, and he really did not know a lot about Jerad's life.  
"Everything remotely personal will be packed up and put in storage," he said. "You are free to look at it and sort through it any time. Maybe it would be good if you waited until your padawan siblings are around, though. It is better not to do such things alone."  
That made a lot of sense, and Lok found himself nodding in agreement.

If one thing had to be said about Eeth, Lok soon found out, it was that the man knew how to take charge. What surprised Lok was the relief he felt about this. It was not up to him any longer whether he slept, got up, or meditated. Eeth sat with him on the very first day to draw up a schedule that was going to be valid at least for the next ten days or so until the start of the new cycle.  
"You are going back to school then," Eeth decreed. Lok had no intention to do any such thing, but he did not voice that thought. He did protest, though, when Eeth said that he was going to see a soul healer every other day.  
"No way," he said. "I don't want to discuss my feelings with a soul healer, thank you very much."  
Eeth gave him such a fierce glare that Lok actually shrank back a little.  
"Whether you want to or not is entirely irrelevant," Eeth snapped. "The next time I hear that sorry excuse for an argument coming out of your mouth, I am going to put you across my knee and spank some sense into you. And I'd better warn you right now that I don't make idle threats. Your master died, you are grieving, and therefore you need to see a soul healer. End of story."  
"Oh, so whenever I don't want something you want me to do, you just threaten to spank me and win the argument by default?" Lok asked bitterly.  
"Broadly speaking, yes, that's the idea," Eeth replied matter-of-factly. "Was that any different with your master?"  
Lok actually had to think about this.  
"No, ultimately not," he finally admitted reluctantly. In fact, Lok had had a reputation of being close to unmanageable during his time as a senior initiate. Jerad had remedied that, and one of the ways in which he had done so was by imposing strict consequences for any kind of disrespect and disobedience.  
"I still feel I shouldn't be forced to, you know, expose my innermost feelings to a random soul healer," he told Eeth.  
"Oh, you've got a say in what soul healer you work with," Eeth replied. "Just not in whether you'd like to see one at all or not."  
Good, thought Lok, immediately thinking of ways to go through so many soul healers that he'd never end up actually working with one.  
"Within reasonable limits," Eeth, who had studied his face closely, added pointedly. "If I get the feeling that you reject individual soul healers just for the sake of it, I will pick one for you."  
Now where did he get that idea from? Lok thought in consternation. He would have expected this degree of perceptiveness from his master, but not from a virtual stranger. Lok was starting to feel an ever-growing measure of grudging respect for the Zabrak Jedi Master.

The next few days went surprisingly smoothly. Lok got back into a rhythm of sleep, meals, meditations, workouts and chores, and every time he did one of these everyday things, it became a little easier. Since Eeth had seen through his ploy concerning the soulhealing sessions, he decided to just settle on the soul healer who had seen him in his quarters and be done with. Ngka Sing was a middle-aged human female, and her no-nonsense approach sat fairly well with Lok. Eeth also made Lok catch up on his school work, but Lok's mind was not in it. If Eeth realised he was not making much progress, though, he did not comment on it.

Eeth asked Lok several times whether he wanted to go out and meet friends, but Lok refused that outright. He had no desire for looks of pity, questions and pointless efforts to spend comfort. For the same reason, he never returned his friends' calls. And he did absolutely not want to go back to classes and be exposed to the whole lot of them. It was over that matter that he had the first real run-in with Eeth, several days after he had moved in with the man.

"The course schedule for the upcoming cycle is now available," said Eeth. "We should take a look at it and book you in for your courses."  
"No, I'm not going back to school," said Lok with an air of absolute finality.  
"Excuse me, what was that?" asked Eeth icily.  
"I think you heard me perfectly well," said Lok, imitating Eeth's stern tone with great success.  
"And I think," Eeth said in a dangerously low voice, "you know perfectly well that your duties are not negotiable. You are going back to school. Period."  
"Nope," said Lok.  
"Let me guess," said Eeth, still in that carefully controlled, low, stern tone of voice that he managed to make sound rather ominous. "You do not want to go."  
"Exactly," said Lok, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
Eeth looked at him for a long moment with narrowed eyes.  
Then he said in a deceptively mild tone of voice: "Go and open that cupboard to your right."  
He pointed at one of the closets that lined the wall of the common room. Lok's master had used the same closet to store tablecloths, flower vases, napkins, candle holders and so forth. For a moment, Lok thought that Eeth had gone mad.  
"Why?" he asked cautiously.  
"Because I'm telling you to," said Eeth softly. "Just do it."  
Lok stood up slowly and stepped over to the cupboard in question. After a doubtful glance at Eeth, who nodded at him to go ahead, he opened the door. And gasped in dismay at what he saw.

"All of these," said Eeth conversationally, "are guaranteed to leave a strong impression. Just a fair warning. Either you drop your unreasonable attitude by yourself or you can go ahead and bring me one of these implements so I can convince you to drop the attitude."  
Lok gaped at him. To be fair, his master had owned a number of spanking implements, and he had not been beyond using painful stuff like his belt on occasion, but he had certainly not devoted a whole cupboard to them!  
In any case, Lok definitely did not want a paddle, strap or, Force forbid, a cane used on him. He would just have to concede defeat - for now - and find some other way to get out of going back to school.  
"Alright," he said begrudgingly. "I'll enrol for classes."  
"I'm glad you see some sense now," Eeth said neutrally. "Now, come here."  
Lok returned to the table. Before he knew what had hit him, he found himself upended over Eeth's lap and something hard exploding on his bottom half a dozen times.  
"Ouch!" he yelled indignantly (and also because this was really painful.) "Yeow! What'd I- Oww! What the - Aaah! Owww! Ouuch!"  
Eeth released him, and Lok immediately jumped up and furiously rubbed his smarting bottom.  
"That," said Eeth sternly, "was for your attitude. Maybe this way you will try harder to keep your smart mouth in check the next time."  
Lok scowled at him. Eeth's style of dealing with him was uncannily like his master's.  
"Where did that paddle come from?" he inquired, pointing at the item that was still in Eeth's hand. "Is that what you used in the corridor the other day?"  
"Yes," said Eeth. "I usually carry it in my belt. So be warned."

After this talk, Lok was warned alright. He realised that he would need a good plan if he wanted to get out of school. Eeth was not to be trifled with.


	5. Chapter 5: Eeth

Eeth had taken care of Lok for four days now, and he thought that things were going reasonably well. Alright, so this afternoon, he had felt the need to give the boy six solid swats with his paddle over the seat of his pants for pulling an attitude about going back to school. It had worked - sort of; Eeth was not entirely sure that Lok would give up that easily. He was on his guard. He was also a little uncertain whether disciplining a boy who had so recently lost his master was the right thing to do, so he had called Ngka about it.

"Of course you did the right thing," Ngka had said. "He needs some degree of normalcy back in his life, and that includes someone who will call him to task when he oversteps his limits. Which he did. He knows perfectly well that he'll have to go back to school, and you made that clear to him. You're good for him, Eeth. Just trust your instincts."  
"Well, my instincts are telling me he is not through with the issue of going back to school," Eeth said. "They are also telling me that the momentary state of affairs is too good to be true. He cannot be over his master's death after less than two weeks."  
"No, certainly not," Ngkam agreed. "Grief tends to come in waves. Part of Lok still expects his master will walk into the door the next moment; when he fully realises that this won't happen and what that means, he'll have a hard time coping. Besides, he has had a lot of adjustments to make these past days. That might have kept his mind off things. It won't always be that easy. Be prepared."

And that was sound advice.

This evening, Lok seemed restless. During their evening meditation, he was unfocussed and absent-minded. Eeth could not help him much because he did not share a bond with the boy. Lok would need to open up to him a lot more than he was currently doing for them to create at least a strong Force-link. Eeth did not want to force him, though, at least not yet; just as he had decided not to haggle him too much about his school work until classes actually started. It was enough of a challenge for Lok to cope with a full day's schedule as it was, without being forced to give his best effort at every single thing he was doing. For now, Eeth was satisfied if there was at least some effort.

Like usual, Eeth sent Lok off to bed at nine. During the past days, Lok had fallen asleep like a log at night. He had obviously still been catching up on all the sleep he had missed after his master's death. The shadows under his eyes had disappeared, and he looked a lot healthier for it. Tonight, however, Eeth heard him tossing and turning for a long while. After an hour, Eeth knocked on his door to ask whether Lok needed help falling asleep.  
"No, thanks," Lok said politely, without raising his head from the pillow to look at Eeth. "I've just not been that terribly tired, but I'm starting to get sleepy now."  
"Alright," said Eeth, "but call me if you need help."  
If Lok wasn't asleep in another hour, he decided, he was going to provide that help whether the boy wanted him to or not. But it did not come that far; Lok eventually fell asleep on his own.

Eeth had just gone to bed and drifted off himself when he was jolted out of sleep by a scream. He acted on instinct; within seconds, he had jumped out of bed, stormed into Lok's room, lifted the screaming and thrashing boy out of his bed and cradled him in his arms.  
"Calm down," he said softly, shaking Lok gently to wake him up. "I'm here. It's a dream. Wake up. It's only a dream."  
"Master!" sobbed Lok, clinging to Eeth's robes. "No. Master. No. Please..."  
Eeth would have loved to be able to soothe Lok through the Force, but what tiny link the boy allowed was not enough to do much. However, through his voice and touch, he slowly got through to Lok.  
"Master Eeth!" the padawan said, blinking at him through tear-stained eyes. "I... what happened?"  
"You had a bad nightmare," Eeth said gently. "About your master, apparently."  
Lok shuddered.  
"Yeah," he whispered. "He... like... he was there. He hugged me, and suddenly he turned into... urgh. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."  
Eeth had to smile a little at that.  
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said gently. "It's not as if you had that nightmare on purpose. Come on, let's get you back to sleep."

Eeth sat with Lok until the boy had gone back to sleep, helped along by a light and unobtrusive sleep compulsion. And he continued sitting next to Lok's bed, meditating, until Lok woke up in the next morning. It was almost seven; Eeth had decided to let him sleep in. He was feeling strangely protective of his charge, and having had two padawans already, he thought he recognised the signs. Maybe Lok recognised them, too, and maybe that was why he was so loathe to allow a deeper contact during their meditations. Well, Eeth was ready to give him more time. Some more time; certainly not indefinitely.

As Ngka had predicted, the grief seemed to come in waves. Some days were going well; on other days, Lok was absent-minded, constantly close to tears and had terrible nightmares.  
"Tell me honestly," Eeth said after their evening meditation, the night after Lok's second episode of heavy nightmares. "Would you rather not sleep alone in your room?"  
"What?" asked Lok in surprise. "Nonsense. I'm thirteen."  
"I know hold old you are," said Eeth. "I also know you lost your master and are having bad nightmares. That is neither unusual nor something to be ashamed of. My first apprentices had nightmares when they were much older than you are now. I had nightmares as a youngling, for that matter. Sometimes, it helps not to sleep alone. So?"  
Lok was silent for a long moment. Then he whispered: "Yes, please."  
So, Eeth set up a second bed in his own bedroom. Whenever Lok had had a bad day, he slept there. His nightmares did not stop with that, but they were not as bad any more, and Eeth was up close to help with them.

On the one hand, Eeth was glad that Lok was so obviously starting to trust him and to rely on him. On the other hand, he was a little concerned about Lok's refusal to engage in any other social relations. The only time he did not spend with Eeth was when he was with Ngka. That did not bother Eeth, per se; the Council had freed him from his other obligations. Lok was his job now, and Eeth took it as seriously as he had ever taken a task. But he was not sure that this was good for Lok. He decided to let it slide, for now, until Lok's classes started.

Often, when they walked to and from the gym, did chores around their quarters or ate, Eeth – following Ngka's advice – got Lok to talk about his life, both in the creche and with his master. This was not too hard since Lok was by nature a lot more talkative than Eeth had ever been. The boy had clearly been devoted to his master. Apparently, Jerad had developed a special talent for undercover missions and had therefore paid particular attention to training Lok in stealth and evasion techniques. Lok was indeed fairly advanced in this area for a padawan his age. He was also quite good with a lightsaber. Even as a padawan, Jerad had been a good fighter, very precise and in tune with the Force, and he had obviously taught Lok well.

The talks were not entirely one-sided. Indeed, Eeth realised at some point that Lok had learned more about him in one week than Lakhri or Raven had learned during the first year or two of their padawanhood, and in hindsight he felt decidedly guilty towards his two former padawans about that. Part of this was simply because Lok asked so many more questions than Lakhri and Raven had, but this, in turn, was because he was less afraid of Eeth - and because Eeth more readily answered these questions than he had in former years. He really was trying to improve. Mostly, Eeth told Lok stories about missions he had undertaken alone or with one of his padawans, but Lok had a knack for asking questions that forced Eeth to become a lot more personal than he would have done on his own accord. Lok's talkative nature had its downside, though; the boy tended to speak without thinking and, especially when he was tired, angry or frustrated, answered more flippantly than he had any right to. Eeth was feeling not very tolerant about that type of behavior.

"I don't wanna go to sleep," Lok said morosely one night after their evening meditation, about a week after he had moved in with Eeth. "I'll just have nightmares again."  
"That may or may not be the case," Eeth replied calmly, "but you need your sleep. Off to bed with you. You may sleep in my room. If you have a nightmare, I will be right there."  
"Yeah, well, that's easy for you to say," grumbled Lok, making no move to get up from his meditation mat.  
"No, it is not," said Eeth firmly. "I know what a nightmare is."  
"Well, YOU didn't lose your master and had dreams of him turning into a monster and dragging you off somewhere," Lok said grouchily.  
Eeth resisted the sudden urge to pull him up and swat him. He had taken Lok to the pools today and driven him hard; the boy was tired and exhausted. This was not usually conducive to reasonable behaviour.  
"No, I did not lose my master," he replied quietly and firmly. "That still does not make you the only one who has experienced bad things in his life, nor are you the only person haunted by nightmares."  
"Yeah, I'm sure," drawled Lok, trying to hide a yawn. "What'd you have nightmares about? Getting a fail grade in astrophysics?"  
Eeth was just about fed-up with the boy's self-pity.  
"I did lose my parents before I was three and grew up living on the streets in the slums of Nar Shaddaa where drug addicts alternately tried to rob me, rape me or sell me as a slave," he snapped, "but I am sure that is not quite up there with your experiences and would not qualify any of the nightmares I had as a youngling as particularly haunting. Now off. to. bed. with you."  
Lok stared at him.  
"Is that true?" he asked in a small voice.  
"I did not suddenly get into the habit of inventing stories about my life in order to make myself interesting," Eeth replied sternly. "Yes, it is true. I have also asked you repeatedly to go to bed. I'm not going to give you any further verbal reminders."  
"Yeah?" asked Lok absent-mindedly. "What are you going to do inst- OWW!"  
He had been pulled up by the ear and firmly swatted across his backside.  
"Are you going?" asked Eeth, not releasing the grip on his ear.  
"Yes, alright, I'm GOING!" yelped Lok, squirming in order to reduce the pressure on his ear.  
"Good," said Eeth sternly, letting him go. And Lok hurried to obey.

The night before the start of the new cycle of classes, Lok was toying with his food. He was also repeatedly sighing and was wearing a rather miserable look on his face. Eeth indulged this for a while without comment. The longer it continued, the more certain he became that Lok was putting on a show and was pushing for a reaction. He finally got one, but probably not the one he had hoped for.  
"Stop behaving like a martyr and eat your dinner before it gets cold," Eeth told him in a no-nonsense tone of voice.  
Lok's head snapped up.  
"A martyr?" he asked incredulously. "I'm NOT behaving like a martyr. I'm simply not ready to go back to school yet. People are going to ask questions and I'm going to fall apart in front of everyone. Can you blame me for not wanting this?"  
"Yes," said Eeth unsympathetically because at this point he was certain that this was just a ploy for getting out of going back to classes. "It is going to happen sooner or later anyway. The longer you postpone it, the harder it will get. And you need to get back among people. So you're going. Just accept it and finish your dinner."  
Lok folded his arms across his chest.  
"My master wouldn't have made me eat when I'm unhappy," he said petulantly.  
Eeth's eyes narrowed. He felt himself getting angry for more reasons than one; apart from the fact that Lok's statement was probably a blatant lie, Eeth had never looked kindly upon attempts at emotional blackmail.  
Lok at least seemed to notice that he had crossed a line; he shrank back a little from Eeth's glare.  
Eeth took a moment to get his anger under control and release it into the Force. Then he said very quietly, his eyes boring into Lok's face: "Don't you dare misuse the memory of your master in order to manipulate me. Ever. Am I clear on that?"  
Lok bit his lip and was suddenly tearful.  
"I won't," he said contritely after a moment. "Sorry. It slipped out before I could control it. That was childish of me."  
"Childish is a nice way to put it," Eeth replied, not quite mollified. "Now, if I have to remind you again of finishing your dinner, you are going to finish it on a sore bottom."  
Fortunately for Lok, he was not stupid enough to let that happen.


	6. Chapter 6: Lok

"Stop sulking," Eeth told Lok firmly over breakfast the next morning.  
"I'm not sulking," Lok replied with as much dignity as he could muster. "I told you I'm not ready for this, and yet you make me go. Excuse me for being not happy about that."  
Eeth snorted.  
"You are not sulking because you are 'not ready for this', you are sulking because you are not getting your way," he said matter-of-factly.  
Lok wanted to protest that statement, he really wanted to, but unfortunately Eeth had hit the nail on the head. At some point, this had turned into an attempt to regain some control over his life; to prove that there must be something that Eeth simply could not make him do. Lok knew that Eeth would not buy his denials for a second, therefore he merely scowled into his porridge and said nothing.  
"Eat up, or you're going to be late," said Eeth.  
"Can you stop giving me orders?" Lok asked in exasperation.  
"Only if you stop giving me reason to," said Eeth.  
Lok wanted to scream at that, but instead, he breathed in and out deeply and started spooning his porridge.

When he had cleared his things away, Eeth asked him matter-of-factly: "Can I trust you to walk to school and arrive there, or will I have to deliver you to your teacher in person?"  
Lok thought he'd rather die than be brought to school by his caretaker like a toddler.  
"I'll go alone, of course," he said. "And arrive at my classroom and all."  
Eeth gave him a scrutinising look.  
"Promise," Lok said, holding up two fingers.  
"Alright," said Eeth. "Brush your teeth and get going."

And now, Lok decided as he left Eeth's quarters, it was time to put his plan into action. Eeth had sent him off on time, but he deliberately dawdled and took detours that enabled him to avoid his fellow padawans on their way to school. He managed to arrive at his classroom with no second to spare, just as Knight Mahasiws, his Basic teacher, was about to enter. She gave him a sympathetic smile and pointed him to his seat.

During the first half hour of the lesson, he alternately stared out of the window as if he was totally lost in thought, bowed his head low over his textbook as if he wanted to hide tears or hid his face in his hands as if he could hardly stand being here. He only hoped that Knight Mahasiws was going to be more easily convinced by his dramatic performance than Eeth.

It seemed to work; through his splayed fingers, he noticed the Knight and several of his classmates throwing concerned glances at him as the lesson progressed. Finally, about ten minutes before it was due to end, he started on phase two… and started to retch and gasp for air.  
"What is it, Padawan Lok?" asked Knight Mahasiws urgently and hurried over to kneel next to him.  
"Can't… breathe…," he choked out, and by now he nearly believed it himself. "Please… I have to get out of here. Please."  
"Of course," Knight Mahasiws said gently, helping him stand up. "We'll get you right to the healers. Chella, could you escort –"  
"NO!" Lok yelled, clutching his head as if it was about to split open. "I'm not sick, I'm just -"  
Alright, now a bold move was called for. He vaulted towards the door, flung it open and ran down the corridor.

What now? If he just went back home, chances were that Eeth would be there. The man was altogether too good at seeing right through him, and if he was unlucky, he would just be sent back to school, or worse. Lok thought he'd better hide somewhere. If he returned home by the time classes were over, he'd have a much easier time convincing Eeth that he had been emotionally distraught and had needed time and space to get over it. A nagging feeling in his stomach told him that this behaviour was a lot more deceitful than he usually felt comfortable with; but there was nothing for it, he had started this and now he needed to carry it through.

He stopped for a brief moment and looked around himself. He was near the healers' wing. Would anybody look for him there? Probably not, but then again, if they found him there, chances were they would release the healers on him. Better not. He briefly pondered sneaking out of the Temple, but that seemed pretty suicidal to him on second thought. Finally, he settled for seeking out a remote meditation garden and hiding in its hindmost corner between a cluster of bushes. And there, he started to cry for real.

What's wrong with me? he thought in despair as he wiped his eyes on a clump of moss. He might have pulled off something like this at the age of ten or so, back in the creche. But his master had effectively put a stop to such behaviour - not only by consistently punishing him for it in ways that left a strong impression, but also because Lok couldn't bear disappointing the man. Sure, he had got into trouble frequently over all kinds of things, but never over deliberate deceit on this scale. So why was he doing it now? He had no idea, but if Eeth got to the bottom of this, he was probably going to kick him out. And Lok realised that that thought pained him more than he would have imagined.  
Force, how could I become so attached to that man in such a short time? he wondered in dismay. It felt like he was betraying his master. Rationally, he knew that that was nonsense, but emotionally, he was torn between fear of losing Eeth and fear of becoming too attached to him. Maybe it was all for the better if Eeth solved this dilemma by kicking him out… and maybe, just maybe, that was what had driven him to go ahead with this plan…  
He tried to push the thought away, but it was persistent. So what if he lost the safety that staying with Eeth offered because of his own stupidity? That would be a relief of sorts, but it would also be completely unbearable. Lok's life felt like a huge mess, and there was no poin in even trying to start cleaning it up. He started crying again.  
Eventually, he fell asleep.

He was woken by someone shaking his shoulder.  
"Huh?" he asked sleepily, rolling around and coming face-to-face with an unfamiliar Mon Calamari knight. He had no idea for how long he had slept.  
"Are you Padawan Lok Dar?" asked the Mon Calamari.  
"Uh - yes?" Lok answered. Before he could say anything further, the knight had pulled out her comlink.  
"Master Koth?" she said. "I found him. He's in the meditation garden in section 4-78 G."  
She listened for a moment, said: "Alright," and switched the comm off.  
"Master Koth is coming to get you," he told Lok. "Half the Temple was out looking for you."  
"WHAT?" Lok asked, completely flabbergasted. "Why would they?"  
"Well," said the knight gently, "they feared you might do something silly. After all, you ran off from your class in distress. Master Koth insisted we do all that is in our power to find you. I was about to turn and leave this garden when nobody responded to my calls, but I registered a Force presence in here and thought I'd better check. Are you alright?"  
"Yeah," Lok said listlessly, thinking that he was not very likely to be alright once Eeth caught up with what had happened. He was going to be kicked out, that much was a given. It was only a matter of time.

The knight took Lok to the front of the garden where they waited for Eeth. After several minutes which were filled with serious anxiety in Lok's case, the Zabrak master came striding down the corridor. The expression on his face was unreadable. He came to a stop in front of the two and bowed to the knight.  
"Thank you, Knight Awakar," he said.  
"You're welcome," said the knight. She clapped Lok on the shoulder and walked off.  
"Come," said Eeth abruptly, turned around and walked towards his quarters, obviously expecting Lok to follow. For lack of other options, Lok did so, all the while agonising over how, exactly, he was going to explain this to Eeth. Try to pretend he really had had a meltdown in class? Eeth was likely to look through that and he would only be in worse trouble. On the other hand, it was pretty certain that he was going to be kicked out anyway, so what could be worse than that? If he came clean, he might at least save himself an embarrassing interrogation. But how was he supposed to come clean? "I was mad at you for sending me back to school so I decided to fake a nervous breakdown?" Not good.

He was still mentally debating what to do when they arrived at Eeth's quarters. The door swished shut behind them. Lok chanced a glance at the wall chronometer: It was nearly one, which meant that Eeth must have had people looking for him for more than three hours. Oh no… This was looking bad. Really bad.

Without speaking Eeth pulled off his boots and hung up his cloak. Lok imitated him and then made for his room, having no desire to have a conversation of any type with Eeth.  
"Stop," said Eeth firmly. When Lok turned to glance at him, Eeth pointed him to the common room. Lok sighed and unenthusiastically dragged his feet over to one of the armchairs. Eeth pulled out a chair from the table and sat down opposite him.  
"I'm going to ask you one question now, and I expect a truthful answer," he said in a low, clear voice. "Had you planned any of this in advance?"  
Lok gaped at him. That was the one question he decidedly did not want to answer, and Eeth had to start the entire conversation with it? No way.  
"I'm waiting," said Eeth coolly. "It was a simple yes-or-no question. It should not be too hard to answer."  
Whatever Lok's faults were, he did not have it in himself to lie to Eeth's face.  
"Yes," he whispered, feeling his face burning with shame.  
"I suspected so," said Eeth darkly. "So I had half the Temple looking for you because you decided to put on an act. So far, so bad. Now, tell me the details. And don't make me drag them out of you."  
"What do you need details for?" Lok inquired belligerently. "We both know you're going to kick me out anyway. Just do it and save us the trouble."  
Eeth gave him a bewildered look.  
"Don't be absurd," he said brusquely. "Whyever should I 'kick you out', as you phrase it?"  
Lok stared at him in surprise. He honestly had thought Eeth would jump at the opportunity to get rid of him.  
"I deliberately deceived you," he explained. "I had planned this all along. You had half the Temple looking for me, like you said. Sure, I had hoped to get away with it, but I didn't, so - don't you, I dunno, think I'm more trouble than I'm worth?"  
Eeth snorted.  
"First," he said with an air of absolute finality, "you are quite obviously worth more than the trouble you created. I grant you that it was a lot of trouble, but, and that is my second point, it is certainly no more than I feel capable of managing. Third, I promised to take you in until you have found a new master, and I do not usually break my promises. So, your little act is most definitely not going to get you kicked out. It will, however, get you intimately acquainted with one of the implements in my cupboard. I am going to decide which one that will be after you have told me the details. Refuse to do so, and I will err on the side of caution and just go for the cane. So?"  
Lok did not quite know what was stronger, the relief at hearing that Eeth did not intend to kick him out or the dread at the realisation that some pretty serious punishment was in his near future. The threat of the cane was a good incentive for him to give Eeth an exhaustive and truthful account of what had been going on, though. Eeth seemed to be satisfied by it, in any case, or at least he did not ask further questions.  
He looked at Lok thoughtfully for a long while, and Lok squirmed under that inscrutable gaze.  
"To your credit," Eeth finally said, "you are at least feeling guilty."  
"Well… yes, I am," said Lok a little defensively. "Does that make a difference?"  
"Not in the sense that you are going to receive a lighter punishment for it," Eeth replied, the expression on his face inscrutable. "I do not take kindly to deceitfulness and to attempts at manipulating me. Or your teachers, for that matter. Not to speak of the fact that a considerable number of people were wasting several hours searching for you."  
Lok just had to ask.  
"Why, though?" he asked. "I mean - why did you have them look for me if you knew I was just putting it on?"  
Eeth raised his eyebrows.  
"I did not know you were putting it on," he said pointedly, "I was suspecting it. There is a difference. Until I knew for certain, I had to take the possibility into account that you were genuinely distressed and in need of help. And since we do not share even a semblance of a bond, I had no way of knowing where you were or what state you were in."  
"Oh, so now it's my fault for not jumping at the chance of creating a bond with you?" Lok retorted before thinking. Before he even had a chance to retract that rash question, Eeth had pulled him up by his ear.  
"You asked me a question, I gave you an answer," Eeth snapped. "And I think you are in no position to become insolent about this."  
"Ouch!" Lok yelled. "Okay, okay, sorry!"  
Without releasing his hold on Lok's ear, Eeth said quietly and sternly: "Now you are going to march yourself to my cupboard and get me the bigger one of the straps. They are hanging on the inside of the door. Understood?"  
He set Lok going with a swat to his behind, and Lok hurried to obey, rubbing his ear.  
The bigger strap was not hard to find. The trouble was that it was actually - well, big. It was broad, thick, long and looked altogether too sinister for Lok's liking. While he was still trying to work up the courage to take the evil-looking thing off its hook and bring it to Eeth, he heard Eeth's voice say: "The only reason I did not ask for the cane was because you gave me a complete and truthful account of what you did. I can still change that decision, though."  
That got Lok to pick up the strap instantly because, sinister as it looked, the cane looked more sinister.  
'Come on, be a man', he coached himself as he carried the thing over to Eeth unenthusiastically. 'Your master used his belt on you… how much worse can this be?'  
He looked at the strap as he handed it over to Eeth and did not like his chances.

"Thank you," said Eeth curtly, putting the strap onto the table behind himself. "Now bare your bottom and get over my lap."  
Lok stared at Eeth. He had been swatted by the man before, but always over the seat of his pants. Come to think of it, none of these spankings had required his cooperation either. Granted, none of them had been for deliberate deception… But still, the prospect of being spanked on the bare by anyone but his master did not sit well with Lok! It was plain humiliating, especially as he had no doubts that Eeth was capable of making a spanking over his underpants hurt just as much.  
"Can't we talk about this?" he asked weakly, trying to stall for time. "I mean, I know I deserve it and all, but –"  
Eeth pulled his paddle out of this belt.  
"Alright, your warm-up spanking will be with the paddle instead of my hand," he said coolly. "Enough talking. I gave you an order, and I assure you that you do not want to compound your troubles by adding disobedience to the list of your transgressions."  
Oh great. Just great.

Seeing as he had already been upgraded to the paddle, Lok thought it wise not to argue any further. Scowling, he pulled down his pants and underpants and awkwardly bent over the Jedi master's lap. It wasn't a perfect fit since Lok was fairly tall for his age, but Eeth was not exactly small either, and he did not seem to mind the awkwardness. He simply clamped his left arm around Lok's waist, and less than two seconds later, Lok experienced the first explosion of pain on his bottom.

He tried to bear it stoically, he really did, but it was futile. Eeth seemed hell-bent to make the experience as unpleasant as humanly possible, and in Lok's opinion, he was succeeding.  
Lok squirmed, kicked and wriggled around on Eeth's lap, anything to get his bottom out of the line of fire, but it did not seem to make the slightest difference. The swats just kept coming, without a break, and Eeth was certainly not holding back.  
Despite all his desire to take it like a man, Lok eventually started yelping, then shouting, then wailing and finally crying. And yet Eeth was continuing the spanking with no end in sight, and he had not even started on the strap yet. How he could ever have thought that running off from school was a good idea, Lok could not fathom; he seriously started questioning his sanity as Eeth was busy kicking his ass into next week.

Only when Lok had gone limp and was lying bonelessly over Eeth's knee, sobbing his heart out, did Eeth lay the paddle aside.  
It took quite a while for Lok to be able to pull himself together and quiet down, though. His bottom felt as if it had been roasted right off him. He tried to rub it as Eeth pulled him into an upright position, but withdrew his hand quickly; it simply hurt too much.

Without giving him much of a chance to recover, Eeth ordered: "Now go and bend over the armrest of the couch."  
Lok felt his stomach drop to his feet. He could not even begin to fathom receiving the strap on top of the world-class ass kicking he had just received.  
"Please," he cried pitifully, "I'm sorry. I won't ever do this again. You don't need to do this!"  
"Oh, I believe I do," said Eeth, his face impassive. "You made a very bad decision, and now you are paying the price. And that price is going to rise if I do not find you in position in ten seconds."  
That got Lok moving, which was made a little easier, though no less humiliating, by the fact that he had kicked his pants and underpants clean across the room at some point. Sobbing quietly, he took the position that Eeth had ordered him to take; a position that he was not entirely unfamiliar with since his master, much like Eeth, had been fairly unyielding about certain types of misbehaviour. His master had not used to carry a paddle in his belt, though, nor had he owned a strap that could rival Eeth's.

The first lick hurt like nothing else. Lok howled, and out of their own accord, his hands snapped back. Eeth merely grabbed them with his left, pinned them against Lok's back and wielded the strap again. Lok was forced to endure a full dozen strokes, and with Eeth pinning him down, there was nothing he could do to escape them. They fell exactly where Eeth wanted them to, when Eeth wanted them to, despite Lok's urgent and incomprehensible pleas for mercy.  
When it was finally over, it took him at least a minute to realise it. His voice was hoarse with yelling and the couch was soaked with tears and - yuck - snot. The pain in his bottom was so fierce that he was simply reduced to helpless sobbing.

Eeth had released his hands, but the man's left hand was still on Lok's back, patting it softly. This felt strangely comforting, and Lok unconsciously arched his back into the touch. After a while, Eeth helped him into a standing position and handed him a large handkerchief. Lok buried his face in it and fell against Eeth's shoulder. He found himself embraced by two strong arms. Clinging to Eeth for all he was worth, he cried and cried. He cried out the frustration and embarrassment about his own stupidity, the fear of being kicked out and the guilt at deceiving the man who was making such an effort to take care of him.

An eternity later, he had no tears left to cry. Eeth unobtrusively handed him another handkerchief. Lok blew his nose, wiped his face clean and, flushing pink with embarrassment, released his death grip on Eeth's rather moist robes.  
"Sorry," he mumbled.  
"Apology accepted," Eeth said surprisingly gently. "Now I want you to meditate for half an hour on how to make better choices in the future."  
Lok stared at him. "You want me to meditate?" he asked incredulously. "You do realise that this freaking HURTS, right?"  
"Yes, that is rather the point," Eeth replied calmly. "And you deserved everything you got, so I am not going to enter a debate about this. Meditate. Stand or kneel, whatever you prefer, but meditate. I will tell you when your time is up."

It was probably the hardest bit of meditation Lok had ever completed, but by the time it was over, he noticed in surprise that his heart felt lighter and his feelings of guilt were all but gone. He realised that, as hard as the punishment had been, he had needed this in order to come to terms with what he had done.

Eeth had made use of the half hour to procure some lunch and put the paddle and the strap away.  
"Lie down on the couch," he instructed Lok. "I will provide some healing for your bottom before we eat."  
"You will?" Lok asked in relief. "Thank you."

While Eeth carefully spread a think layer of bacta over Lok's bottom and let some healing energy flow into the damaged area, he said: "Now, can I trust you to go to class and stay there tomorrow? All of your classes? Because if I cannot, I will have no qualms about personally walking you there, waiting in front of your classroom while the lesson goes on and delivering you to your next teacher when it is over."  
"No, Sir, that won't be necessary," Lok said quickly. "I'll go on my own, to all of my classes. Promise. Really."  
He hardly had a choice; it was entirely conceivable that Eeth would make good on his threat, and that would be immensely embarrassing.  
"Good," said Eeth pointedly. "Of course, if you are really and honestly in need of help, tell your teacher; or excuse yourself from the classroom and call me on my comlink. I will be sure come right away."  
"I know," Lok said quietly. "Thank you."  
And he really meant it.


	7. Chapter 7: Eeth

While Lok had performed his meditation, standing up, Eeth had started preparing lunch, deep in thought. What concerned him was not so much the boy's ploy to get his way, which he had reckoned with on some level, but rather his strange idea that Eeth was going to "kick him out". Eeth had not sensed any desire in Lok for this to happen; in fact, the boy seemed afraid of it – and yet he had practically pushed Eeth to abandon him. This was ridiculous, of course. Eeth was by now fairly sure that the Force meant for Lok to become his padawan, and even if that was not the case, Eeth would certainly not abandon his charge until he had found a new master. Obviously, the boy wasn't so sure of that, though. And Eeth was puzzled as to why that would be the case. He would have to think about this more and observe Lok's behaviour carefully.

While he was tending to Lok's rather thoroughly-punished bottom, he said: "I will finish preparing lunch in a moment. While I do so, you will call all the teachers whose lessons you missed today, apologise for your absence and ask for any assignments they might have given."  
Lok sighed. "But that's just plain embarrassing!" he complained, turning his head to look at Eeth. Eeth returned that look with a glare.  
"Alright, alright," Lok conceded. "I'll do it."  
"I thought so," Eeth commented drily, thinking that the boy would have had to be rather dumb to start an argument about this after the punishment he had just received. Lok might be a lot of things, but he was certainly not dumb.

While Lok unenthusiastically, but dutifully made his calls, Eeth put small bread loaves into the oven and added fresh herbs to the Corellian spring stew that was simmering on the oven. He grated some kwetza cheese to go with it and put it onto the table; then the stew followed, and finally, the freshly baked bread. By this time, Lok had finished his calls, quickly washed his hands and come to the table.  
"This looks and smells great," he said appreciatively. "Thank you. How come you're such a good cook, Master Eeth?"  
He lowered himself onto the chair gingerly; Eeth had taken away the worst of the pain, but there was doubtlessly some lingering sting left.  
Eeth sat down opposite him.  
"I have had a lot of practice," he replied, "and I have to admit I quite enjoy cooking, too. Besides, it is a useful skill to possess, so I have made a point of acquiring it."  
He took a bread loaf and indicated for Lok to serve himself.  
"My master wasn't much of a cook," Lok remarked wistfully as he ladled stew into his bowl. "You're so similar to him in some aspects, but cooking - nope. He didn't like it and he wasn't any good at it."  
Eeth had to smile a little, despite himself.  
"No, he wouldn't have been," he said. "I remember that."

*******************

That was one point on which Jerad and he had differed. Eeth had thought it important to pick up all practical skills he could possible acquire, whether it be sewing or cooking. It would make him more independent during missions, he reasoned. With cooking in particular, though, it was more than that. Ever since he had been brought to the Temple from Nar Shaddaa, Eeth had been fascinated with the availability of a huge variety of clean, wholesome food. The act of preparing a meal almost had a sacred quality to him; he enjoyed experimenting with ways to get the best taste out of ingredients while preserving their nutrients to the highest degree possible. And although he never stuffed himself unduly, he definitely did enjoy a good meal.

Jerad, on the other hand, took the availability of good food for granted. He could go without it, if necessary, during a mission, but when he was at the Temple, he simply went to the dining hall and ate what was on offer there. He had been surprised when he had heard that Eeth often prepared meals for his master and himself.  
"That must take up a lot of time," he commented. "Wouldn't you want to spend that time on your training instead?"  
"But this is part of my training," Eeth argued. "Or do you spend your missions eating out? Have you never had to cook a meal?"  
Jerad shrugged. "Well, yes, but I try to limit myself to opening pouches, to be honest," he said. "And if we really have to live off the woods, I know how to hunt and how to make a fire. That's enough to get us fed."  
They simply had never reached an agreement on this point. Eeth found it rather strange to hear that Jerad's position had not changed after forty years.

*******************

Lok looked at Eeth quizzically.  
"Were you friends with my master, then?" he asked.  
Eeth had known that this question would come up at some point, although he had hoped to be able to avoid it for a while longer. It was not so much that he was embarrassed or ashamed of his history with Jerad; he just had his doubts whether a thirteen-year-old padawan needed to be burdened with the information that his recently-deceased master and his current guardian had felt sexually attracted to each other. Eeth tried to imagine how he at the age of thirteen would have handled such an information; he would probably have found it disconcerting, if not repulsive. Not wanting to lie to Lok either, he settled for a slightly evasive answer:  
"I was, when we were young," he replied. "I was sixteen; your master was three years older than me. I admired him quite a lot. He was very self-assured and responsible. A good fighter, and very intelligent, too. And much better at getting along with others than I was. It took me a long time to work up the courage to talk to him, but when I did, we developed… a liking for each other and spent a lot of time together."  
"What happened?" Lok inquired. "I mean, you said you were friends with him when you were young. What stopped your friendship?"  
Eeth was tempted to tell him stop being so nosy, but that would hardly be fair.  
"We did not exactly stop being friends," he answered slowly, weighing every word. "We simply… lost touch with each other. Both of us were on missions quite a lot. And I, in particular, was not very good at maintaining friendships."  
That last bit was a tad more deceptive than Eeth normally felt comfortable with. While technically true, it had nothing to do whatsoever with the reasons for which he had avoided contact with Jerad for forty years. It seemed to satisfy Lok, though, because the boy asked no further questions.

It took Lok about two hours to complete the assignments his teachers had given him. It might have taken longer since he was entirely unenthusiastic about the task; but Eeth watched him like a hawk and did not allow his attention to waver for long. He could see that Lok needed to be pushed in order to make an effort and focus on his work.  
"The longer it takes you, the more it will detract from your free time," he told the boy.  
"Well, it's not as if I care much about having free time," Lok replied a tad sullenly. "And no, I still don't want to meet any of my friends or go the padawan lounge, so you needn't ask."  
"Be that as it may," Eeth replied firmly, "I intend to take you to the pools this afternoon when you are finished, so you will kindly look at your data pad instead of out the window."  
Lok sighed, but complied. If Eeth was like this now, he could just about imagine how much leeway he would be given when the end-of-term exams were approaching…

Eeth had made a habit of taking Lok to the pools at least twice a week. The boy was a fairly good swimmer and seemed to enjoy himself even when Eeth raced him through the pools. More importantly, Lok was currently going through a growth spurt, and Eeth knew from his own experience as a teenager that one could lose a lot of muscle power during such periods if one was not careful. Swimming was good for building up muscles, and probably less boring for his charge than the weights room.  
Eeth had little problems with Lok during their workouts; like his previous apprentices, Lok seemed to enjoy physical exercise, generally complied with his instructions and hardly ever complained, even if Eeth drove him hard. This was probably as much a result of Jerad's training as it was in Lok's nature; in any case, it suited Eeth well.  
He was a little more generous with praise now than he had been in former years. He had learned that most teenagers needed some encouragement. Besides - and this was something that Eeth was loathe to admit to himself - he kept wondering how Jerad would have behaved towards Lok and how it compared to his own teaching style. He was not sure, but he suspected that Jerad, who had been quite friendly and outgoing, handed out praise much more readily and naturally than he did. So Eeth, while not exactly lowering his standards, made a point of telling Lok whenever he did something right.

After their return from the pools, Eeth had Lok help with some chores around their quarters until dinnertime. Again, the boy helped with such things quite willingly and rarely complained. His stubborn streak notwithstanding, Lok had many traits that Eeth found desirable in a Jedi padawan. Such considerations aside, Eeth was genuinely starting to like the boy.

Their joint meditations were all the more unsatisfactory in that light. Lok kept lowering his shields for the smallest possible degree, allowing for no more than a very basic link that permitted Eeth to guide him through a meditation, but made it impossible for their Force presences to connect in any meaningful way. Eeth had not said or done anything about this so far because he knew that a boy who had just lost his master would need time to build up a relationship to a new one. But this state could not continue indefinitely. He resolved to talk to Ngka about it at some point.

After dinner, Lok helped clear the table and wash the dishes, then flopped down on the couch and switched on the holo. Eeth opened his mouth to reprimand him, but reconsidered. Normally, he had never allowed his apprentices to watch the holo or play games without asking for permission. On the other hand, this was the first time Lok did anything other in his spare time than withdrawing to his room and lying on his bed. It might be a good sign, and Eeth was not sure whether it was wise to discourage it. Besides, Lok had completed all his assignments and chores today satisfactorily. Eeth decided to leave him be, for now, and address the matter at a later point if necessary.

That night, when Lok had gone to bed, Eeth sat and thought about the boy's reluctance to socialise. By all accounts, before his master's death, Lok had been well-liked by his peers and had had a number of friends. Quite a few of them had called repeatedly and left messages, so they must care about Lok. Eeth did not want to force his charge to go to the padawan lounge or visit friends - at least not yet. Maybe things would improve once Lok started his classes for real. In addition, Eeth decided to register both of them for an open master-padawan sparring class tomorrow. These classes were typically attended by three to five master-padawan teams and gave padawans the opportunity to work with other masters while their masters could gain a perspective on other padawans' level of skill, compared to their own. Eeth was interested to see what Lok would make of the situation.

First of all, however, Lok had to go to school, and he went. With little enthusiasm, but he did go. And Eeth knew that he attended all of his classes because he had called all of Lok's teachers last night and asked them to call him immediately if Lok did not show up in time to any of them, or if there was any cause for concern. Knowing that he would receive a message if anything needed his attention, he went to the gym alone for the first time since he had taken on Lok and had a very long and very thorough workout.

He returned home and prepared a noodle soup and bread rolls for lunch. Waiting for Lok to come home felt strange, like a return to the normalcy of having a padawan learner, instead of having a disturbed and grieving child to look after twenty-four hours a day.

Lok seemed to have the same feeling of strangeness when he returned home; he appeared a little awkward.  
"Hello, m-" he said without thinking, then broke off, turned away and hastily pulled off his boots.  
"Good afternoon, Lok," Eeth said calmly, giving the impression of not having noticed the slip. "Wash your hands; lunch is ready."  
He did not ask how school was. Lok seemed no worse for the wear, but being asked to admit that school had not, after all, been the terrifying ordeal he had made out it would be might be a bit too much for his adolescent pride, Eeth thought.  
Instead, he said as he ladled out soup: "I have booked us in for the open master-padawan sparring class at four."  
Lok scowled.  
"So you're my master, all of a sudden?" he asked acerbically.  
"Don't be ridiculous," said Eeth brusquely. "You are a padawan, and I am a master. Any objections to that assessment?"  
"Very witty," said Lok disparagingly. "What's the point of making me go? So I can spar against masters who are not my own? I get that every day already."  
Eeth put down his spoon.  
"And I," he said in a dangerously low voice, "have not suddenly started to tolerate disrespect Do you want to eat your lunch in peace, or do you want to eat it on a sore bottom?"  
Lok glared at him, but apparently came to the conclusion that it might be better to desist.  
"Sorry," he ground out and started eating his soup. Eeth normally expected better apologies than that, but he had no particular desire to push Lok into a temper tantrum, which was undoubtedly brewing, so he contented himself with giving Lok a look that clearly told him he was walking on thin ice, then continued to eat. Eeth could tell that the boy was still frustrated, however.

They finished their lunch in silence due to the fact that Lok was still sulking. When they were done, the boy took his plate into the kitchen, banged it onto the counter, made his way to the couch, plopped down and switched on the holo. This was altogether worse behaviour than Eeth was prepared to tolerate. Resolving to never put off talks about the rules again, he crossed over to the couch in quick strides, switched off the holo with a wave of his hand, pulled Lok up by the ear and snapped: "I do not care whether you are in a good or a bad mood, you will help me clear the table and wash the dishes. Is that understood?"  
Lok writhed in his grip.  
"Let me go," he demanded, a hand clamping around Eeth's wrist in a futile attempt to make him release his ear.  
In response, Eeth merely tightened his grip.  
"Furthermore," he said sternly, "you will not use the holo without having asked for permission, and certainly not before your chores and homework are done. And lastly and most importantly, you will not try to order me around."  
"Let go of my ear!" yelled Lok angrily, pulling at Eeth's wrist futilely.  
Eeth looked at him through narrowed eyes. Then he complied; but only to grab Lok by the shoulders, bend him over the arm of the couch and pull down his pants. One moment later, his paddle crashed down onto the boy's underwear-clad bottom.

Twelve very hard swats later, Lok was crying steadily.  
Having ample practice at ignoring such things, at least momentarily, Eeth pulled him up and said firmly: "I don't know what has gotten into you, but it stops here and now. Understood?"  
Lok nodded mutely, wiping his sleeve across his eyes.  
"Good," said Eeth calmly, sticking the paddle back into his belt. "The dishes will be your job now and after dinner, then. When you are done, do your homework. Or don't you have any?"  
Lok shook his head.  
"I do," he said in a subdued voice.  
Eeth nodded and put a hand onto Lok's shoulder. The boy looked for a moment as if he wanted to lean into Eeth's chest, but on second thought, he decided against it and went into the kitchen.  
As was usual these days, Eeth wondered whether he had done the right thing.


	8. Chapter 8: Lok

Lok realised that he was angrier today than he had any right to be. He also realised that he needed to deal with his anger and that he really should ask for help. The trouble was that asking Eeth for such help would eventually require him to establish a link with the man, and that was something he simply felt not ready to do. Maybe it was just his stubbornness, or maybe there was a different reason, but he would be damned if he allowed Eeth access to that part of himself. It belonged to his master and no one else, Lok told himself firmly.

And thus, he plodded through his chores and homework with bad grace – not to mention a smarting bottom – and was still sulking when Eeth took him to the scheduled master-padawan sparring session. Lok was not stupid; he recognised this as a ploy to get him to interact with others, and he did not want that.

Alright, so he had to concede that school had not been all bad, not that he would ever admit that to Eeth. People had been friendly, but nobody had asked stupid questions. His best friend, Gareth, had come up in the first break. He had simply put his arm around Lok's shoulders and told him he was glad to see him. Lok had suddenly realised he was glad to see Gareth, too, and he had returned the embrace. That did not mean, however, that he was about to give Eeth the satisfaction of suddenly going to the padawan lounge or arranging meetings with his friends; not after having adamantly refused such things for weeks. The man should simply stop meddling with his private life, Lok thought sullenly, kicking off his boots as they started to change into their gym clothes.

There were four teams registered for today's session. Padawan Tihayli, a Twi'lek girl, was about Lok's age, while the other two padawans were considerably older. The masters thus quickly decided among themselves that Eeth would work with Tihayli during this session and Noonian, Tihayli's Iktotchi master, with Lok. Afterwards, Tihayli and Lok would get to spar against each other.

For some reason, Lok resented the situation, and his resentment grew every time he saw Eeth explaining something to Tihayli, patiently making her rehearse a move or, worst of all, giving her words of praise when she did it right. He was so distracted by this that he did a rather poor job with his own lesson. Noonian was clearly exasperated with his lack of attention, so much so that Eeth saw fit to interrupt his lesson with Tihayli, cross over to where Lok and Noonian were practicing, put his hand onto Lok's shoulder and murmur into his ear to pull himself together and focus. He did not say "Or else", but the message was clear. Lok gritted his teeth and tried to comply, but it was hard. There was so much frustration and aggression boiling under the surface, and there were fears as well although he did his best to push them away. Logically, he knew that would not make them disappear, but he was determined to manage somehow without turning to Eeth for help.

The freestyle sparring session against Tihayli was a disaster. Lok was so worked up at this point that he just rushed into his attacks, neither drawing on the Force nor thinking them through. Tihayli, on the other hand, kept a cool head and had impeccable defences. She scored hit after hit. Lok felt irrational bursts of hatred at the sight of her, with all her talent and her carefree life and her master who was looking out for her and was undoubtedly regretting having to work with Lok today.

Eeth cut the match short after a while, which only seemed to add to Lok's humiliation. He glared at Eeth as the man talked to Noonian for a moment, probably about how much of a disappointment Lok was, and crossed his arms about his chest defiantly, his lips pursed, as the Zabrak master came to fetch him.  
"Come," said Eeth calmly. "This was clearly not a good idea. We will try it again some other time."  
"No, we won't," Lok spat, standing his ground. "Do you see now what I meant when I said that you're not my master? You aren't and you won't be and you don't even want to be. You want a proper padawan, someone like Tihayli, who is neat and compliant and oh-so-skilled with her saber. Why don't you go and look for one?"  
Eeth did not rise to this challenge. He merely looked at Lok for a long while and then said softly, as if speaking to himself: "You are jealous."  
"No, I'm not," Lok said hotly. "Why should I be?"  
"Because you are insecure of your position with me," Eeth replied slowly, as if he was working this out while he spoke, which he probably was. "That makes you afraid. And your fears make you angry."  
"Stop analysing me as if you were a freaking soul healer," Lok snapped. What Eeth said made an awful lot of sense, and that fact was making him even angrier.  
Eeth's eyes narrowed.  
"Normally, behaviour like yours would have earned you a paddling three times over," he said sternly. "More importantly, though, your anger needs to be dealt with. You are clearly not doing a very good job at it on your own, so you will simply have to accept help, whether you want it or not."  
His hand clamped around Lok's upper arm. He steered the boy towards the exit of the gym, ignoring their gym bags that were still in the change rooms, and turned left into the corridor.  
At this point, Lok stopped, pulling against Eeth's hold with all his strength.  
"No," he said quietly, his voice shaking with barely contained emotion. "I can do this on my own. I will not let you intrude. Paddle me all you like, but I will not allow you to pry into my feelings. They are none of your business."  
Eeth turned around and, again, looked at him for a long moment.  
"I never paddle you because I LIKE to," he said, his voice level. "Sometimes, however, you need me to. And if you need me to paddle you right here and now until you are ready to drop your resistance against accepting help with your meditations, that is what I will do. I would much prefer not to have to coerce you, though."  
He put his finger under Lok's chin and lifted the boy's head, forcing him to look into his face.  
"Tell me", he asked quietly, "do you trust me at all?"  
Lok stared into Eeth's face at the unexpected question, searching the man's black eyes, and he suddenly found he could not bring himself to lie to Eeth's face. He nodded mutely.  
"But I don't want to meditate," he mumbled after a brief pause; it did not sound defiant any longer, though, merely unhappy and a little forlorn.  
"I know," said Eeth, and he sounded more compassionate than ever before. "I know, and I understand. I am much the same as you in that respect; I prefer to deal with problems on my own. But I have had to learn that this is not always possible, and not always sufficient. There was a time at which I exposed my padawan to tremendous danger, just because I thought I could conquer my fears all by myself. I could not; and I came to accept that there is no shame in seeking help. I also know that you are afraid of what you will find when you allow yourself to meditate with me. But it will no go away just because you refuse to acknowledge it. It will merely eat you up. Look at how your fears made you act today. Do you honestly want to go on like this?"

Lok was suddenly reminded of a situation that had not at all been dissimilar to this one, with a tall Twi'lek Jedi asking him, the creche's worst troublemaker, the same question, very bluntly and very solemnly. Everything in him screamed in protest at the thought of ever granting another person the position in his life that his master had had; but it seemed as if he desperately needed to because Eeth was entirely right, he did not want to go on like this. It had been a relief when Master Jerad had taken charge of him, reining in his temper, his defiance and his outbursts, pushing him to become the kind of padawan he had always wanted to be, but had not really believed he could ever become. Jerad had put his unwavering trust in him, and every time he had disciplined Lok, this had shown the boy that his master expected better of him, that he believed he could do better. That, in turn, had given Lok the strength to believe in himself. He had lost that faith when his master had died. And only now did he realise that Eeth was offering to give it back to him.

"I don't," he replied in a shaking voice. "But… I don't know if I'm ready move on either."  
Eeth raised his eyebrows.  
"Fortunately for you, I have not been asking you about your wishes," he said mildly. "Simply following my orders will suffice. Now come."  
He turned and led the way towards the nearest meditation garden, the same he had taken Lok to on their first night. This time, it was not empty, but Eeth chose a secluded corner for them and sat down, motioning for Lok to sit opposite him.  
Lok complied hesitantly, looking at Eeth for further instructions.  
"Now drop your shields," Eeth ordered bluntly. "Completely."  
Lok felt his breath quicken. This was happening too fast. He suddenly realised that Eeth had been right; he was afraid. Very afraid.  
"I… no… I… can't you…" he stammered, having no clue what it was that he wanted to say.  
Eeth shook his head.  
"It is not going to get any easier," he said firmly. "Your anger needs to be dealt with now, and I will help you do so. But I cannot do that if you keep closing yourself up. Drop your shields."  
Lok closed his eyes. He felt himself starting to sweat. He was close to panicking when he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder and heard Eeth's voice say, gently and patiently: "You can do this. You can be brave if you want to be, Padawan Lok Dar. Your master recognised this in you, I am sure of that. Will you honor his memory by showing how brave you can be?"  
This tore Lok out of the haze of fear and guilt that was threatening to overwhelm him. He opened his eyes again and looked at Eeth. Then he drew a deep breath and dropped his shields completely. And all the fears, aggression and frustration he had bottled up inside him flooded out.

To his credit, Eeth did not even flinch. He had established a link almost instantly, and through that link helped to channel the onslaught of emotions emanating from Lok. It was hard work, for both of them; but Lok had been trained to do this, and Jerad had taught him better than to give up easily. With every minute, his heart felt a little lighter. And the lighter his heart felt, the more he realised that the empty spot inside, the part where his bond with his master had been anchored, yearned to be filled and that the Force pulled him towards Eeth.

"You knew it!" he said suddenly and accusingly, pulling out of the link abruptly and glaring at Eeth.  
"Yes, I knew it," said Eeth calmly. "So?"  
"Err," said Lok, taken aback by that unfazed reaction. "Umm. So… so you could have told me?"  
"Yes, I am sure that would have gone over exceedingly well," Eeth replied drily. "And we are not finished with our meditation yet. Since when do you get to terminate it whenever you feel like throwing around accusations?"  
"Since never, of course," Lok replied with a sigh and a half-smile, closed his eyes and linked with Eeth again. Eeth's Force presence was pulling at him, and suddenly, he just wanted to end all the uncertainty and loneliness, and with reckless abandon, he plunged towards it.

This time, it was Eeth who withdrew, albeit much less abruptly than Lok had done.  
"Are you entirely sure you want to do this now?" he asked softly. "I have no doubt that the Force means for it to happen, but I do not want you to wake up tomorrow morning and regret it."  
Lok thought about this for quite a while, and as Eeth waited patiently without speaking, Lok realised he was thankful to the man for having asked this.  
"Yes and no," he said slowly. "I know now that the Force means for it to happen, and it feels right. I trust you. And yet, it makes me feel tremendously guilty. As if I'd take a huge step away from my master, and a very final one."  
"I think," said Eeth, "that the one event that was truly final was your master's death, and that is what you do not want to acknowledge. Taking on a new master means accepting it. That is what you are afraid of."  
He said it very matter-of-factly, without judgment, and Lok knew that he was right. He drew a deep breath and said with determination: "I do want you as my master. Because you're right, I'm not a coward. I need to move on."  
"You do," said Eeth gently. "And make no mistake, it will be hard. It will not make the grief go away, nor will it make you stop feeling guilty. But you will not be alone any more, you can be sure of that."  
For the first time since his master had died, Lok thought he could at least imagine that there was a way forward. He did not yet see it clearly, but he might just be able to believe that it existed.

An hour later, Lok found himself sitting on Eeth's lap, hiding his face in his new master's robes. He had no idea how he had ended up here; at the beginning of their meditation, he had sat opposite Eeth, but when he had surfaced from his trance, he had been clinging to Eeth with all his might, his face wet with tears. Eeth had his arms wrapped around him and did not speak.

"Didn't we, I dunno, have to ask the Council first?" Lok asked, his voice muffled by Eeth's robes.  
"Ordinarily, that's the correct procedure, yes," Eeth replied.  
"Since when do you not follow proper procedure, then?" Lok asked a tad cheekily, in a valiant attempt to get a grip on himself. He detached himself from Eeth a bit and looked up at the man's face. Eeth gave the impression of trying hard to suppress a smile.  
"I have been in touch with the Council regularly about you," Eeth said. "I know for a fact they will approve of our pairing."  
"Why didn't I know about this?" Lok inquired, his body stiffening a little at what he perceived as rather insulting.  
Eeth raised his eyebrows.  
"Was it so terribly hard to guess that the Council would be interested in how you are faring?" he asked.  
Put like that, no, it was not so terribly hard to guess. Lok sighed.  
"No," he said. "Alright then. So we don't have to seem them?"  
"Oh yes, we do," said Eeth. "I will make an appointment for tomorrow morning once we are back at our quarters."  
There was a moment's silence. Then Lok said: "Uh, Master Eeth – I mean, Master? About my behaviour earlier? I'm sorry. I was so angry, and I knew I should ask for help, but I didn't because my pride was getting in the way. I just wanted to do this on my own, and I was also afraid of what meditating with you would mean for me. That was wrong, and I really feel bad about it."  
"Apology accepted," Eeth said quietly. And nothing more.  
Lok looked at him quizzically.  
"That's all?" he asked in surprise. "I mean… seeing how rude I was to you and how angry I got and…"  
"I think," said Eeth, "you were in an exceptional situation. And I do not particularly want to start our pairing by calling you to task for the inappropriate way in which you dealt with your emotions. But rest assured that you will not get away with behaviour like this again. When you feel more anger than you can deal with, you do not neglect to ask for help again, or there will be serious consequences."  
Lok heaved a sigh of relief. The rules were still there, which was a comfort; but apparently Eeth was ready to dispense with enforcing them just this once. That was unexpected and rather welcome.


	9. Chapter 9: Eeth

"How much homework have you left to do?" Eeth asked Lok who was tapping away on his data pad and had been doing so for two hours already. Eeth had booked an aerials gym and wondered whether he would have to ask Lok to interrupt his work and finish it after their workout, for a change. The boy had been his padawan for six days now, and so far, he had never needed more than an hour for his assignments. This was rather surprising, in fact; at this stage of their padawanhood, both Lakhri and Raven had had a lot more work to do, even at the beginning of a cycle of studies. On Friday, Eeth had explicitly asked Lok whether he was sure that this was all the homework he had. Lok had just shrugged and said that it might get more when the exams approached, which had left Eeth determined to check Lok's work more closely in the future.

Now it was Monday and Lok did not seem to be close to finishing any time soon. Eeth threw a look over the boy's shoulder and saw that he was still working on astrophysics, as he had done for the past ninety minutes.  
"You've got a lot of astrophysics homework," he remarked.  
"Well, yeah," Lok replied. His response was a little too non-chalant. Eeth frowned in suspicion.  
"Any particular reason for that?" he inquired.  
Lok hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying: "Dunno. Maybe he wasn't happy with our work in class? Some of us were rather restless today, after having been on a field trip this weekend."  
This did not feel like an outright lie, but nor did it convince Eeth that his padawan was being honest with him. Before he could ask further questions, however, the door chime rang.  
Eeth went to open the door and was faced with a young female knight, human, brown-skinned, almond-eyed and slender, with short dark hair and a slightly wary expression on her face. He immediately recognised her; she had been knighted when he had still been on the High Council.  
"Knight Armor," he said, bowing to her. "Do come in."  
As he stepped aside to make way for her, Lok jumped up in surprise.  
"Gwened!" he yelled, rushing towards her and throwing his arms around her. The knight hugged him firmly, and they stayed like that for a minute or so. Eeth withdrew to the kitchen discreetly to make some tea. Gwened had been Jerad's second padawan, a very solemn child; Eeth remembered having thought, at the time, that Jerad's cheerful nature might do her good. She was a formidable knight now with a distinct talent for diplomacy, but also very good skills at stealth and evasion and with a lightsaber, as was to be expected from a former padawan of Jerad's.

When Eeth came back with a tray of tea, Lok had cleared his homework away and offered Gwened a seat at the table.  
"Thank you," she said, giving him a smile that was a tad uncertain; she obviously remembered him as a member of the High Council. "I'm glad to hear that you took Lok as your padawan. When I received the news, I came back from Honar V as fast as possible, but it still took me a few weeks to get here. I've been worried about Lok all the time. I was about ready to take him in myself."  
"That's kind of you," said Lok, "but I'm fine - well, sort of. You know what I mean. Still, I'm glad you're here. Really." His voice sounded a little choked, as if the memory of his master's death had suddenly popped to the surface again.  
Gwened squeezed his shoulder briefly and then accepted a cup of tea from Eeth.  
"I'm still in a state of disbelief over what happened," she said. "He just caught this virus and died? I mean… Master Jerad, of all people!"  
Lok nodded mutely, staring at the tabletop. Gwened reached out, took his hand and gripped it tightly. They sat like that for a moment, comforting each other.

"I asked about Hoikat," Gwened said finally; Eeth knew that Hoikat was Jerad's first padawan. He must be around Lakhri's age, but had never trained a padawan of his own for some reason. "He's on an undercover mission and can't be contacted, apparently," Gwened continued. "He might be back a week or a year from now, nobody knows."  
"I know, they told me," Lok replied morosely. "So… do you think we should go through Master Jerad's things or wait for Hoikat?"  
"I dunno," said Gwened. "It might be more decent towards him to wait. On the other hand, I might not be around when he comes back. Waiting for all three of us to be here at once might mean postponing it indefinitely. How do you feel about it? Would you rather wait?"  
Lok shook his head.  
"No, I'd rather get it over with, to be honest," he said.  
Eeth felt a flash of pride in the boy at hearing this; he knew how hard this was going to be on him, and facing it required courage.  
"I think we can forego our workout this afternoon so the two of you have time to sort through Master Jerad's things," he said quietly. "Lok, would you like me to come or would you rather do this on your own? I'm happy with both options."  
"Thank you, master," Lok said earnestly. He thought about this for a moment, then decided: "I… I'd rather have you there if that is alright with you, Gwened?"  
"Sure," Gwened said, seeming a little surprised, but pleasantly so, at the trust that Lok had developed in Eeth in such a short time. Eeth, for his part, was unaccountably touched.

Master Myer in storage looked nearly as old as Yoda. He knew everyone in the Temple and knew immediately what they had come for.  
"Master Jerad Delapar's padawans, hmm?" he said sympathetically. "I'll get his things for you."  
He showed them towards one of several waiting rooms, spacious and equipped with a table and comfortable chairs, and ambled off, supporting himself on a walking stick. Several minutes later, he returned with a large hovercart that carried a huge crate.  
It quickly turned out that the crate's size was mainly due to the framed pictures it contained. Lok and Gwened seemed to be familiar with them; they carefully leaned them against the wall and proceeded to go through the couple of boxes containing smaller things, from napkins to Jerad's pocket knife which was made of Alderaanian steel and had apparently been a gift made to him as a young knight.

Meanwhile, Eeth, who was sitting in the back and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, looked at the topmost painting more closely. It was abstract, mainly black with vivid flashes of red, and fairly intense. Eeth had never had a particularly deep interest in art, but he was not entirely clueless either. After all, he considered it part of his job to have at least a basic knowledge of things like art, music and literature, and when there was an opportunity to see an important exhibition and he had the time for it, he usually went. Jerad's work was unlike any he had ever seen, though; it was certainly original.

"Oh, look," said Gwened suddenly in a slightly husky voice, "his sketchbook."  
She flipped it open on a random page; it showed a sketch of a rough hillscape. Obviously, Jerad had not limited himself to abstract art.  
"That was the mission before our last," Lok whispered. "Tovhar II. The view from our base camp."  
Gwened skipped a few pages and found that most of the sketchbook was still empty. She flipped back until the last page that was not blank. It showed a perfect sketch of Lok, sitting at a table and looking distinctly bored.  
"Oh Force," Lok said. "That… that's me on the mission where… It was a conference, it was unbelievably boring, and I would never, ever have believed that… I didn't even know he had drawn me, I… "  
He broke off. Tears were trailing down his cheeks, and he turned away to hide them.  
Eeth rose, came to stand behind his padawan and wordlessly put one hand on his head and the other on his shoulders. Lok turned around, flung his arms around him and buried his face in Eeth's robes. Gwened, in the meanwhile, quietly looked through the rest of Jerad's sketchbook, pretending hard not to notice the scene.

When Lok had regained his composure, she held the sketchbook out to him and said: "You should definitely have this."  
Lok nodded and cleared his throat.  
"I don't need any of the household stuff and things, though," he said. "Can you use them for your knight's quarters?"  
"That's a good point," said Gwened. "I will just take what I can use or what I like and talk to Hoikat later. He's pretty well-equipped, though. I doubt that he urgently needs tablecloths."  
Jerad had, in fact, not hoarded many things besides his art and a few personal items of decoration and household equipment. They searched for older sketchbooks because Gwened maintained that Jerad had always had one with himself and had filled many of them during her own padawanhood, but they were not there; they were forced to conclude that he had thrown them away when they had been full.

At the bottom of the crate, they found a small black duroplast box that neither Gwened nor Lok could remember ever having seen. Gwened put it on the table and opened it to discover four holocubes and a note on paper lying on top of them. She gave Lok a questioning look; he nodded for her to go ahead.  
"When you are reading this," she read aloud, "I have most likely become one with the Force. Three of these holocubes are for my padawans. The fourth one is for Jedi master Eeth Koth."

Gwened broke off and stared at Eeth. So did Lok.  
"Go on," said Eeth, his even voice not betraying the emotional turmoil that these entirely unexpected words had caused inside him.  
"Alright," said Gwened in obvious consternation. "Uhh… Jedi master Eeth Koth… oh, yes. Furthermore, I have dedicated a painting to each of them. You may find the names on the back of the frames. The other paintings shall be burned. May the Force be with you."  
Lok was still staring at Eeth as if he was seeing a ghost.  
"There's something you're not telling me," he said in a rather accusatory tone of voice.  
"Possibly," Eeth replied quietly. "And if there is, I have very good reason for it. This, however, comes as unexpected to me as it does to you. I have not lied when I told you that Jerad and I haven't had much contact for the past forty years."  
He stood up and started to look for names on the picture frames. His was the black and red one on top. Eeth had no idea why although it was true that the painting spoke to him on a certain level that he could not quite explain.  
Next, he found Hoikat's, which they put aside, then Gwened's. Her face lit up as she saw it: swirls of yellow and light blue with accents of green; it had always been her favorite, she said, and suddenly became tearful.  
Lok's was in the back, a particularly large and colorful painting that, Lok said, Jerad had just terminated when he had taken Lok as his padawan. Lok had liked it so much that Jerad had allowed him to put it in his room.  
"Would you like to have it in your new room as well?" asked Eeth gently.  
Lok considered the question for a moment, then nodded mutely.  
"Alright," said Gwened in a businesslike tone of voice that could fool no one over the fact that she was fighting hard to hold back tears. "We'll take the holocubes and the pictures. Lok gets the sketchbook. I can take the other small stuff and go through it with Hoikat when he's at the Temple next. And we ask Master Myer to have the other pictures burnt, as per Master Jerad's wish. Does that about wrap it up?"  
Lok just nodded again, eyes on the floor.  
"It does," said Eeth softly. "I'll take care of it."

He quickly and efficiently organised for Hoikat's painting to be delivered to the knight's quarters, then arranged two hovercarts, one with Gwened's and one with Lok's things, and informed Master Myer about Jerad's last will concerning his paintings. They delivered Gwened and her hovercart at her doorstep on their way to their quarters.  
"How much longer will you be at the Temple?" asked Eeth.  
Gwened shrugged.  
"No idea," she said, "but I don't think they'll send me away any time soon. I've been on missions almost constantly for the past two years or so. Considering the… situation, I hope I'll be granted some time at the Temple. Maybe teach some classes."  
"From my experience with the Council, it is rather likely that this will happen," said Eeth. "Maybe you would like to take part in Lok's training while you are here? From what I recall, you are specialised in Soresu. Lok could benefit from training with you."  
"I'd like that," Lok said quietly.  
"Me too," said Gwened, giving him a rare smile.  
They arranged to meet for dinner tomorrow in order to discuss details; then Gwened disappeared in her rather spartan quarters while Lok and Eeth made their way towards their own set of rooms.

"Now WHY," asked Lok immediately after Gwened's door had swished shut behind them, "would my master have left you a holocube and a painting?"  
"I told you before that I have no idea," replied Eeth evenly, "I have not seen the contents of the holo cube yet, after all. Besides, I think I have a right to keep certain… private… memories to myself."  
"Excuse me?" asked Lok indignantly. "I was his padawan, and now I'm yours. And I happen to have noticed that he certainly didn't leave personalised holo cubes to any of his other former his teenage friends. Force, he didn't even leave any to his actual friends at the time of his death! So, why you? There's something you're not telling me."  
Eeth glared at him.  
"Has it occurred to you," he asked sternly, "that I might not have been lying when I said that I have good reason for that?"  
"Why, is it that bad?" asked Lok in a tone that was a lot more snide than Eeth liked to hear. "Did the two of you set fire to the Temple? Did you get drunk in front of him and he's using the holo cube to tell you it's the funniest thing he has seen in all his l– OUCH!"  
Eeth had suddenly stopped him short and brought the paddle down onto his bottom. The angle was not ideal, but Eeth had made up for that in sheer force.  
Lok rubbed his bottom, took a step back and scowled.  
"Will you stop hitting me in the corridor?" he asked in annoyance. "Or do you LIKE having an audience?"  
"You," Eeth said in a low, irate voice, putting the paddle back into his belt while fixing Lok with a glare, "are pushing it. You have no right to talk to me in that disrespectful manner, and it is going to stop."  
"I'm going to stop when you tell me what I want to know, and only then," Lok insisted. "Why are you being so touchy about this? Were you in love with my master? Were you a couple?"  
Eeth was flabbergasted at the question although he had to admit it had probably not been THAT hard to work out; after all, how many other options were there? He was momentarily at a loss what to say.  
"So you were," Lok said, totally ignoring Eeth's discomfort. "Did you have sex? Did you split up? Is that why you didn't talk to each other? Or were you forbidden from talking to each other and that's why he left you? Is that what–"  
He broke off and yelped as Eeth, who was entirely fed up with the boy's attitude, grabbed the base of his braid and dragged him towards a door that led to a small garden.  
"Bare your bottom and touch your toes," Eeth snapped. "And I don't want to hear another word out of you. If you're not in position in ten seconds, you can go to our quarters and fetch me the cane."  
That set Lok in motion; he was scowling fiercely, but he complied. Nodding in satisfaction, Eeth went to cut a switch. It was not as long and sturdy as it might have been, but more than long and sturdy enough to leave a strong impression.  
He took his time preparing it while Lok stood there, presenting his bottom. Only when Eeth was satisfied that the switch was as smooth as it was going to get, did he step up behind his padawan and bring it down onto his target firmly. It left a thin red line across the fullest part of Lok's bottom, which had the boy flinch.  
"Let me make a few things clear," Eeth said sternly, letting a second swat follow.  
"There are appropriate and inappropriate ways to talk to your master."  
Swat number three elicited a strangled yelp.  
"Yours was entirely inappropriate."  
Swat number four came down right onto the crease where Lok's bottom met his thighs and had him whine and shift from foot to foot.  
"Stay still," said Eeth mercilessly. "You have been talking more than enough. Now you are going to listen."  
He raised a fifth welt on the tops of Lok's thighs, upon which his padawan let out a stifled groan.  
"Your former master and I did not break any rules, nor did we 'split up' or end up not talking to each other, so you may stop your pointless speculations," Eeth informed him. The sixth swat went diagonally across the others, and this time the stifled groan was more of a screech.  
"When I tell you that something is private, I expect you to respect that," Eeth continued, and this time he brought the switch down three times in rapid succession for particular emphasis. At this point, Lok started to cry quietly.  
"Whether you agree with me or not," Eeth concluded. He administered two more swats onto the lowest part of Lok's bottom and a last diagonal one that crossed the other, then discarded the switch. By the time he was done, Lok was sobbing openly.  
"You may get up," Eeth said, outwardly unfazed, although he was entirely aware that Lok must feel very unfairly treated. Still, the boy needed to learn a lesson, and that lesson was not to let his mouth run away with him.  
Lok very slowly rose, wincing in discomfort. Eeth handed him a handkerchief and waited until he had dried his face.  
"Now let me be clear about one thing," Eeth said calmly. "This was not for your curiosity, which is understandable. It was for the entirely disrespectful way in which you were articulating it. Which was not only rude towards me, it was also no way to talk about your former master. Jerad's memory is certainly not something I want to be taunted about, let alone enter a shouting match."  
Lok bit his lip. This argument seemed to have hit home.  
"I understand," he said after a moment. "And I'm sorry, master."  
"Apology accepted," said Eeth much more gently. "And like I said, I do understand your curiosity. I might be willing to tell you more after we have both seen or heard what our holo cubes contain. I do expect you to talk to me respectfully, though, and to respect my wish for privacy when I state it clearly. Which is no more than I will grant to you."  
Lok nodded sheepishly.  
"Yes, master," he said. "I will. And I'm sorry I was rude."  
Eeth offered him a hug, and Lok accepted it gratefully.  
"What did I get myself into?" Eeth wondered as he stroked Lok's back. But he really knew there was no way he was going to be able to keep the truth from the boy for much longer. Lok's imagination was already running away with him, and this was only going to get worse if Eeth stayed silent. He would simply have to find a way to explain things to his padawan.

A quarter of an hour later, Eeth was sitting on his desk chair, the black-and-red painting leaning against the wall. He was looking at the holo cube, wondering what was expecting him. The date stamp was relatively recent. Had Jerad sensed his impending death? Had he sensed that the Force would lead Eeth to take care of his padawan? Eeth shrugged off these thoughts. There was really only one way to find out.

A holograph of Jerad flickered to life; a grown Jerad, around sixty years of age. He still looked formidable, Eeth thought as the holograph looked at him silently for a long moment.  
"Eeth," said Jerad's voice. "There is something I have wanted to tell you for a long time, and have never found the courage to. The longer we didn't talk to each other, the harder it became. I don't know if it was me who avoided you, or the other way round; probably both. Maybe I will yet find the courage to talk to you in person; and if not, you might find this message when I have become one with the Force."  
Jerad paused for a moment, apparently collecting himself.  
"I just wanted to let you know that it was hard," he finally said. "It was incredibly hard to be the responsible and mature one, that day in the pools and in the time that followed. I knew I had to be although I never wanted to. And while I know that I did the right thing, part of me has always regretted it. I have never quite forgotten you. And I guess that is all I wanted to say."  
He smiled at Eeth, a genuine, if a little wary smile that made his eyes crinkle.  
"The framed picture I left you has another painting on the backside of the canvas," he said. "It was among the first I painted, about a year after that day in the pools. You might want to look at it. Do with it what you like. May the Force be with you, Eeth."

Eeth sat staring into the air long after the holograph had disappeared. For the first time in many, many years, he felt tears stinging his eyelids. Finally, and with great effort, he rose and found out how to open the picture frame. Very carefully, he lifted the canvas up from its support and laid it upside down onto his bed. The backside showed an abstract painting, but Eeth recognised the meaning immediately because the only two colours Jerad had used were Eeth's and Jerad's exact skin tones, brown and ocean-green, starting out apart and then mingling, but without merging completely. Eeth looked at it for a long time – at something that had been a possible future, in a distant past, but had never come to be. And he wondered whether a part of him, too, regretted it. No, he finally told himself. It would have made the life he had led so far impossible; and his had been a full life. He was raising his third padawan now. Had his life turned out different, or had the rules been different from what they were, a relationship might have had a place in his life. But he had made the right decision; and he was more grateful than ever, after having heard Jerad's confession, that the older Jedi had brought this sacrifice and made it possible for Eeth to make that decision.

In the end, Eeth put the painting back into its frame as it had been, with the black-and-red version visible. He was going to ask Lok later whether he would agree to having it put up in their common room. For now, he needed to talk to the boy about something else, and thus went to knock on his padawan's door.

"Come in," Lok called in a subdued voice. As Eeth entered, he found the boy sitting on his bed, his face wet with tears.  
He sat down next to Lok and put his arm around him. Lok leaned into his side, and they stayed like that silently for a long while.  
Finally, Eeth started to talk.  
"One of your guesses was, in fact, right," he said softly. "Your former master and I were in love with each other when we were senior padawans. We felt very strongly attracted to each other. Both of us were about ready to forget our vows, and I, being the younger and maybe also the more hot-headed and obstinate of us, probably would have done so had it not been for Jerad who sacrificed his own wishes and made us ask our masters for help. I think they took care to keep us apart for quite some time; one of us was always on missions. Over time, we lost touch; and later, I think we subconsciously avoided each other, maybe out of embarrassment or maybe out of fear that temptation might arise again. In any case, nothing actually happened, and the whole thing took place forty years ago."  
"And yet, it must have been important enough for my master to leave you a message and a painting," Lok observed.  
Eeth paused for a moment.  
"Yes," he said slowly. "I had no idea that that was the case, but I am glad that he did."  
Lok scooted a little closer to Eeth.  
"I'm glad you told me," he said sincerely. "If not, I would have just kept guessing and annoying you with my silly guesses."  
"I know," said Eeth with a small smile. "Truth be told, that was the main reason for me to tell you. I had been reluctant to do so because I simply did not know how you would take it."  
"I'm not sure how I'm taking it either, at least not yet," Lok admitted, "but it's better to know than to be kept in the dark. Thank you. I know these are very private memories and you would have had every right not to confide them to me. I'm all the more grateful that you did."  
"You are welcome," said Eeth gently. "And the next time you want to know something, you ask me politely and might very well receive the information without receiving a sore bottom first."  
Lok snorted. "Thanks a lot for that advice," he muttered. "You wouldn't consider offering some healing? This hurts, you know."  
"Yes, that is rather the point," replied Eeth, unfazed. "If it still hurts by the time you go to bed, I will take away enough of the pain to enable you to sleep. Not now. You desperately need to learn when to keep your mouth shut."  
"Funny you should say that," Lok grumbled. "Because Master Jerad always said the exact same thing."  
"All the more reason for you to make an effort to improve," Eeth said drily. "For now, though, finish your homework. As far as I recall, your astrophysics assignment is still waiting."  
Lok heaved an almighty sigh.


	10. Chapter 10: Lok

Lok had a hard time falling asleep that night, and that was not due to the minimal lingering sting that the switching had left; Eeth had giving him some bacta after their evening meditation. Rather, it was at least partly because of the hole cube that was still sitting on his desk. It had only contained a brief message, but Lok kept replaying it in his head.

"When you hear this, I have become one with the Force," his former master had said. "However devastating that might be for you - trust in the Force. It will lead you onwards. Be as brave as I know you can be; and be a good padawan to your new master, just as you have been to me. You have many fine qualities. You are bright and strong and diligent, you are honest and you have courage. You have it in yourself to become a formidable Jedi one day. Make the best out of it. I love you, padawan. May the Force be with you."

The trouble was, Lok thought, that he was currently being neither honest nor diligent. And that thought was the other reason for which he had a hard time falling asleep. It had started with a forgotten Huttese assignment on the very first day of school. Their teacher had given them two tasks to do, and Lok had truly forgotten about one of them. In his former life, he would most likely have been told to do it that afternoon and be given a warning if it was the first time, and some kind of extra work if it was the second time. A strict teacher might have dispensed with the warning (and Lok really worked best with strict teachers).

That was not what happened with his Huttese teacher at all, though. She just gave him a kindly smile and told him that he had a lot on his plate these days and she understood. Lok nodded quickly, seeing a chance to avoid both warning and punishment, and said that he just found it so hard to focus (which was technically true, but not at all the reason for which he had not done his homework). And from that point, it had spiraled downwards.

The next day, he had again not completed all of his Huttese assignment, and this time, it had been a act of conscious negligence; it had just been so hard to force himself to concentrate on his work, and Eeth had not allowed him to let his attention wander for long, so he had decided that one paragraph of translation was really enough and that he was going to skip the other one. Well, and maybe two thirds of the math problems were sufficient, too, because if it worked with his Huttese teacher, why not with his math teacher? And his astrophysics teacher as well?

It had indeed worked for the most part. His gentle Huttese teacher, Knight Ithrin, had merely asked him in concern whether his master knew about his troubles, and Lok quickly nodded and said it had all been sorted out with his master and his soul healer and they had told him to just do as much as he could, which was a blatant lie. Amazingly enough, most of the other teachers had swallowed this excuse as well, as he had found out quickly since it was the only thing he could think of saying when they started to get suspicious. The only one to whom he didn't dare present this excuse was his astrophysics teacher, Master Gurnio, because Master Gurnio was the oldest, the most perceptive and certainly the strictest of the lot. When he had not completed his astrophysics homework for the second time in a row, she had told him that while he might be in a difficult situation, she could not allow any student in her class to ignore her assignments. And then she had given him so much extra work that it had taken him three hours to complete and had said that if he had a problem with this, he should tell his master and ask him to call her. Of course, Lok would be damned before he told Eeth because he knew very well what the outcome of THAT would be! Unfortunately, the huge amount of astrophysics homework had made Eeth quite suspicious. It was lucky that Gwened's arrival had distracted him.

All in all, Lok felt rotten. This type of behavior was not like him at all. He might be rude, disrespectful, disobedient, careless with his safety at times, but he was not usually dishonest to this extent. And he had absolutely no idea why he had done this. Sure, at first it had been more or less an accident, and he had just exploited his teachers' unexpected lenience like most students would have done. But why had he gone on neglecting his work and lying about it, despite his misgivings? That question worried him quite a bit. Finally, after a lot of tossing and turning, he resolved to talk to Ngka about it when they next met. The frequency of her visits had been downgraded to once a week by now, though, and their next meeting would only be on Friday. This was fine because she would definitely tell him to tell Eeth and when he did, there would be trouble. But Lok was about ready to face that trouble at this point… although not right now. Friday was fine. And until then, he would buckle up and do all of his homework, every day. Hopefully, this would convince Eeth that he was serious about regretting his misbehaviour.

Things did not quite turn out as Lok had planned, however.

As he walked to classes the next day, he suddenly realised that he had forgotten his Huttese homework AGAIN, all of it, because he had been so busy with astrophysics and with sorting through his master's things. Alright, he might have found the time to do it after dinner, realistically, but he had been so glad to have his astrophysics assignments over with that he had simply not thought any further. There was nothing for it; he would have to count on Knight Ithrin's gentleness one last time.

Knight Ithrin was gentle alright, and she did not reprimand him in the least. What Lok did not reckon with was that after the lesson, she called his master and asked him whether he was sure that it was the right decision to send a boy back to school who was so obviously unable to cope with the work…

"Hello, Master," said Lok, not suspecting a thing, as he entered their quarters after school that day. Eeth was sitting at the terminal, wearing a headset, and motioned for him to be silent. As Lok pulled off his boots, he heard Eeth say: "I see. – Thank you. I can assure you it will not happen again. If, in the future, there is anything out of the ordinary, please notify me at once. – Thank you. May the Force be with you."  
Lok frowned. This did not sound good. If masters promised someone that something was not going to happen again, this usually meant one and only one thing: trouble for their padawan.

Sure enough, Lok had only just hung up his robe and entered the common room when Eeth said in a rather foreboding tone of voice: "Padawan, we need to talk."

He rose from the terminal and walked over to the table, motioning for Lok to sit opposite him.

"Master, if it's about my homework, I… I can explain," Lok said quickly. This was, after all, the only thing this could possibly be about, and he might look a lot better if he spilled the beans right away.

"Oh, it is about your homework alright," Eeth said grimly. "A lot of missing homework. That I, apparently, told you you need not complete if you do not feel up to it. Strangely enough, I cannot remember ever having said such a thing."

Lok swallowed.  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I hadn't meant for any of this to happen. And I had also meant for it to stop. I was even going to tell you about it, honestly. I just wanted to talk to Ngka first."

"Your intention to stop it seems to have been a questionable, seeing as you handed in no Huttese homework at all today," Eeth said coolly. "And what does it say about the sincerity of your intention to come clean if you thought it could wait until Friday?"  
Lok felt his cheeks starting to burn with shame.

"I did mean to stop it, really!" he said desperately. "I just forgot about Huttese because of astrophysics and the whole affair with Gwened and my master's thing. Anyway, I hadn't planned for this to happen at all. It all started with a homework that I had truly and honestly forgotten about, and I totally hadn't expected to get away with it… but I did, for some reason."  
"And so you exploited that fact," Eeth said pointedly. "In every subject except astrophysics, because Master Gurnio was not quite as willing to make exceptions for you as your other teachers. I talked to all of them, you see. And the list of assignments you neglected to do is impressive, just as the list of lies you told to your teachers."

Lok suddenly felt himself getting angry at being confronted in this way when he had planned to own up right by himself. He had no idea how it had happened, but he had been deprived of the chance to show that he was capable of doing the right thing, and that frustrated him thoroughly. He jumped up, stamped over the Eeth's cupboard, got out the cane, returned to the table and held it out to his master.

"Apparently, you already know everything," he snapped, "so there is really no need to talk. Just get it over with, will you?"  
Eeth folded his arms across his chest, refusing to accept the cane.

"I will be the one to decide if and when to use this," he said very quietly and very sternly. "And when I tell you that we need to talk, then we need to talk. Return the cane to the cupboard and sit back down."

This only made Lok angrier. And suddenly, he saw red. He flung the cane onto the table and yelled: "Fuck you!"

And that was something you did not yell at Jedi masters under any circumstances, he knew that perfectly well. Master Jerad had made that very clear to him when Lok had tried that line on him, early in his padawanhood. He had lifted Lok up effortlessly, carried him into the refresher, stood him under the shower – uniform and all – and turned the cold water on. After some sputtering and swearing, Lok had found out through first-hand experience that a hairbrush hurt a lot more on a wet bottom than on a dry bottom. That had effectively snapped him out of his temper tantrum, and he had been sure, at the time, that he would never make that mistake again. Obviously, that resolution had not lasted nearly long enough. Lok had no idea how Eeth was going to deal with this, but he was not in a hurry to find out. Turning on his heel, he stormed towards the door.

He did not make it far. The door had barely swished open when Eeth had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back in.

"Oh no, you don't," he said grimly, then clamped his hand around Lok's ear. Lok yelped and tried to twist his bottom out of harm's way on instinct, but no swat followed. Instead, Eeth dragged him into his room by his ear and deposited him in the empty corner behind his desk.

"Nose into the corner," he ordered. "You are staying there until this tantrum of yours has stopped."

This just served to increase Lok's indignation.

"I'm NOT having a tantrum, and I'm NOT going to stand in the corner like a naughty youngling," he spat out. Unfortunately, his attempt to writhe away from the position was futile because Eeth was still holding his ear in a vice-like grip that only intensified at hearing Lok's protest.

"If you behave like a naughty youngling, you will be treated like one," said Eeth very quietly and very firmly. "Your only choice is to stand in the corner with or without a sore bottom. And that sore bottom is not going to be detracted from your actual punishment. Do the maths, or get ready to go over my knee."

Lok was good at maths, even when in the throws of a temper tantrum. He was fuming, but he was also forced to admit that continuing to fight Eeth over what he considered extremely childish and degrading was only going to make things worse on himself. Clenching his teeth, he turned towards the corner, folding his arms across his chest defiantly in order to make this look a little less stupid.

"Arms at your side," said Eeth immediately. Lok growled in frustration, but he complied, slowly and hesitantly.

"Good," said Eeth implacably. "Now I don't want to see you move a muscle or hear a word out of you until I ask you to come out."

With this, he left, but he disabled the closing mechanism of Lok's door so that he could see his padawan from the common room.

Lok was angry, but it was difficult to hold on to that anger when one was standing in the corner, which was mind-numbingly boring. He stood and stared and stood and stared, and slowly his anger abated. The downside to this was that he became acutely aware of how entirely unacceptable his behaviour had been. He had disobeyed his master and pulled an attitude over being reprimanded for his own misconduct. And then he had cursed at him and ran away over it. Force, WHAT had he been thinking?

The truth, of course, was that he had not been thinking it all because at the time it had been much more satisfying to indulge his temper than to feel chastened about his "forgotten" homework and the lies he had told about it.

He heard Eeth move around in the common room and in the kitchen and thought he'd better apologise.

"Master?" he called out.

Instead of giving a response, Eeth entered his room, stepped up behind him, bent him forward and firmly swatted him across his bottom three times. The swats weren't as harsh as Lok knew Eeth to be capable of, but they did sting.

"I gave you instructions, and I expect you to obey them," said Eeth sternly. And left.

Lok groaned softly in frustration, leaning his head into the corner. This was going to be a long afternoon.

By the time Eeth told him to come into the common room, Lok was well and truly tired of the corner, and his feet were tired of standing. Besides, his stomach was growling; he was used to having lunch right after coming home from school. Feeling much chastened, he left his room on slightly stiff legs. To Lok's surprise, Eeth had placed a bowl of soup, a plate of buttered bread and a pitcher of water onto the table, along with a data pad. The cane was nowhere to be seen.

"Eat," said Eeth. "When you have eaten, write down what happened; what you think might justify any of your behaviour; what you did that was wrong, and what you intend to do about it. You are not going anywhere before you have finished, and I am not going to continue our talk before I have read what you have written and found it sufficiently detailed."  
Lok was not entirely sure whether to be glad that the spanking that doubtlessly awaited him was not imminent, or unhappy about being forced to write a novel while the threat of said punishment was hanging over his head, but he was fully aware that he had no choice. Wordlessly, he sat down and started on his soup, which was as good as everything his master cooked.

By the time he had finished eating, he felt almost calm and, unfortunately, deeply ashamed of himself. He was also a little confused. The more he thought about how was going, the more surprised he was that he was still able to sit. He was under no illusion that this was going to be a permanent condition, but for the moment, he decided to be grateful for small favours.

Writing generally came easy to him, but the questions that Eeth had asked him to write about were not exactly easy to answer.

Alright, the "what happened?" question was straightforward enough, if a little on the complicated side. Lok tried to be as truthful as possible, which included his misgivings and his cluelessness as to why he had actually continued to act this way despite the fact that he had been fully aware how wrong it had been. What might have justified his behaviour? Nothing, really, other than the fact that his teachers had made it too damn easy for him. He knew that this was no excuse, but he wrote it down nonetheless, not as a justification, but because it puzzled him.

What had he done that was wrong? Well, that one was simple, but not exactly fun to answer. He had not done his work and lied about it any number of times, to his teachers and also to Eeth when he had asked whether this was really all the work that Lok had. He had exploited his teachers' kindness and, in short, behaved like an ass.

So, what did he intend to do about it? Well, his intention to own up had been sincere, he wrote that down because it was true; but that option had been taken from him – which showed, he supposed, that it was not a good idea to postpone such things. With a sigh, Lok proposed to apologise to his teachers, catch up on all the work he had missed and accept whatever additional work they might assign him as punishment. As for his dishonesty… Lok hated to admit it, but he probably deserved to be punished for that and was going to accept whatever punishment his master saw fit to mete out. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he wrote it, but it was the right thing to do, he knew that. He was just about done when it occurred to him that the temper tantrum and the swearing should find mention, so he added a sentence stating that these were entirely inappropriate. On second thought, he added an apology.

"I'm done," he finally said quietly. Eeth, who had been sitting at the terminal reading, rose, came over to the table and accepted the data pad. Lok waited in silence while Eeth read through its contents carefully not once, but twice.

"Alright," he finally said. "I accept your apology, but that does, of course, not mean you will get away with your actions."  
"Awww, haven't I already had to stand in the corner for hours and complete half a novel about my misdeeds?" Lok said, looking at his master with what he hoped were puppy-dog eyes. Unfortunately, he had never been good at puppy-dog eyes; that, or Eeth was not the type to fall for them. He levelled a severe look at Lok and said: "Padawan, your corner time, which was only meant to snap you out of your tantrum, was a mere twenty minutes."

"No way!" exclaimed Lok. "It must have been a lot longer!"

"Do you really think that now is a good time to start a debate about the amount of time you spent in the corner?" Eeth asked in a dangerously low voice.

Lok shrank back.

"No, master," he said as contritely as he possibly could. "Sorry. So… what did you want to talk to me about?"

Eeth's eyes narrowed.

"Stop trying to be smart," he said sternly. "You know perfectly well what we are talking about Or do you want to do some more writing?"

Lok shook his head quickly.

"Sorry, master," he said apologetically. "What more do you want me to say, though? I've written everything down. I've apologised. If I could turn back time, I would."  
"And what would you differently if you could?" asked Eeth.

Lok looked at him in surprise.

"Do all of my homework, of course," he said.

"You don't feel that your teachers and I were expecting more from you than you could manage, then?" Eeth inquired.

Lok blushed.

"I, uh, might have led them to believe that this is the case," he hedged, "but no. Not really. I mean, it WAS harder than usual for me to do the work, but not impossible. Especially not with you after me."  
"Yes, I thought so," said Eeth. "I just wanted to make sure. Now, do not get me wrong. I will not punish you for being unable to do stellar work in your current situation. I do, however, expect you to give the best effort that you are capable of, under the circumstances. And that is not what you did at all. Not to speak of the deceitfulness that you displayed, not in a singular instance, but on a daily basis throughout a whole week. And when I confronted you about it, you chose to throw a tantrum and curse at me."

"Well, yeah, I'm sorry again," Lok said defensively, "but you did make me stand in the corner and write an essay for that, didn't you?"  
"No, that was just in order to make the tantrum stop," replied Eeth. "The alternative would have been to put you across my knee. I thought you might prefer it this way."

Lok sighed. "Alright, what's my verdict?" he asked, flinging up his hands melodramatically.

Upon which Eeth did not quite manage to suppress a smile.

"It's not funny," grumbled Lok.

"No, it is not," agreed Eeth, returning to his usual serious self in a heartbeat. "Alright. This was no minor slip, and to make things worse, it was repeated and sustained misbehaviour. Like you proposed so suitably, you will apologise to your teachers and catch up on the work you missed. I do not want you to ask them for additional work, though. You have a hard enough time completing your homework as it is. Doing the full amount of homework and catching up on what you failed to do will be difficult enough. Instead of asking for additional assignments, you will spend the following two weekends tutoring creche children."

Lok groaned.

"Can't you just spank me?" he asked dejectedly. He had never tutored creche children before, but the idea did not appeal to him at all.

"Oh, I will," said Eeth grimly. "In addition to those tasks, of course. For the lies, both towards your teachers and me, you will receive a paddling. And for your little outburst earlier, you will receive another spanking tomorrow night after dinner. Now go to my cupboard and get me the black paddle with the holes."  
Lok gaped at him. Yes, he had entirely expected not to get out of this with his butt intact, and he even knew he deserved it, but TWICE?

"You must be kidding me," he said faintly.

"Certainly not," said Eeth sternly. "Get me the paddle, now. I guarantee that, as bad as it may seem to you, disobedience will make it worse. So will dawdling."

"Wait a moment," Lok said hastily, but he rose from his chair while he said it to demonstrate compliance. "You want me to spend my weekends entertaining creche kids AND paddle me, like, TWICE? Don't you think that's a bit over the top? I mean, whom did I kill?"  
"No, I do not think that it is a bit over the top," Eeth said, stony-faced. "This is not what you get for killing, it is what you get for neglecting your duty, lying about it repeatedly and cursing at me when called to task for it. And you just raised your count by two swats. I'm waiting."

Lok realised that this was an argument he was not going to win. And so he unenthusiastically dragged his feet over to the cupboard and looked for the paddle Eeth had described, not that it was hard to find. It was considerably larger than the one Eeth carried in his belt, and while Lok had no clear idea what the holes were for, he assumed that they were not meant to make this any easier on him.

Eeth accepted the paddle wordlessly and laid it onto the table behind himself.

"Bare your bottom and get over my lap," he said.

Lok sighed – which, it seemed, he was doing rather a lot today – and reluctantly pushed his pants and underpants down to his knees. Jerad had cured him of attempts to preserve his modesty, or possibly to protect his bottom at least partially; he knew by now what was expected of him when he received this command. With another sigh, he awkwardly draped himself across his master's lap.

Unfortunately, Eeth started to spank with his hand which probably meant that this was going to take a while. Lok hated that. His old master had sometimes made short work of such things, bending him over and giving him a dozen painful strokes with his belt or so, but it seemed as if Eeth did not subscribe to the brief-and-intense variant of dealing out a hiding, at least not for the more formal punishments.

Eeth did not hold back much, which meant that this hurt from the first swat, and the pain was accumulating fast. Lok tried to take it stoically, but it of course he was doomed to fail. Soon he started to hiss, to kick his feet and to twist around in a futile attempt to remove his bottom from the line of fire. And yet, Eeth spanked and spanked. Just like the last time Lok had earned himself some serious punishment, he did not stop until the boy was sobbing and had lost all fight.

As Lok felt his master shift in order to pick up the paddle from the table, his crying increased in intensity, but he did not protest. He had messed up, after all, and he deserved to be punished. Alright, so Eeth was even more of a hardass where punishment was concerned than he had reckoned with, but he was hardly in any position to do something about that.

There was a brief pause, and then the paddle came down for the first time and Lok let out a pain-filled howl. Eeth's normal paddle hurt, but this was in a class of its own.

"Master, no, I'm sorry, I – AAWAAAAH!" he yelled and starting bawling. And that was what he kept doing until Eeth had finished the dozen. By the time his brain registered it had stopped, he was convinced that his bottom was never going to feel the same again. Not even able to think coherently, he made to get up from Eeth's lap, possibly in order to flee to his room, but to his surprise, his master's heavy hand was holding him down.

"You are still two swats short," said Eeth evenly. "It would have been over by now, were it not for your unfortunate tendency to argue my instructions."  
"Wha- No, m-master, y-you needn't d-do this!" Lok protested through his sobs, frantically trying to think of something that would convince his master to reconsider. "I've learned my lesson, I'm sorry, I- OWWWWWWWWEEEEEHH!"

The paddle had bit into the undercurve of his bottom, right where it met his thighs, and before Lok could gather his thoughts, it hit again in the exact same spot. When that was over, Lok was defeated; he simply cried and cried and cried, making no attempt to get up on his own.

After what seemed like an eternity, he felt Eeth's hands on his shoulders pulling him into an upright position. Lok did not fight them, but neither did his crying abate. A small part of him hoped that Eeth was feeling sorry for having punished him so harshly.

Eeth, however, merely handed him a handkerchief, of which he always seemed to have some in his robes, and said firmly: "Stop working yourself up."

This effectively worked to stop the flow of tears, if only because it instantly made Lok indignant.

"I'm not working myself up, you spanked my bottom off of me!" he said hotly.

"You," said Eeth sternly, "are working yourself up, and your bottom is still in one piece. Now hush."  
He rose and pulled Lok into a hug.

"Oh, alright," murmured Lok, sinking against the man's chest and sniffling into the handkerchief. "But you DID spank my bottom off of me."  
"Do you ever stop arguing?" Eeth asked in quiet amusement, shaking his head. "You could talk a Hutt into making gifts. Maybe you should opt for a career as a salesman, after all."

"If that saved me from your wrath, I could consider it," Lok replied. Through the handkerchief, it sounded rather muffled, but the cheek in his voice was unmistakable.

Eeth smiled.

"No, padawan," he said. "You are not getting rid of me quite that easily."


	11. Chapter 11: Eeth

Chapter Eleven: Eeth

Eeth looked around the crowded dining hall, searching for his padawan. Lok was not here yet. Eeth was just about to make his way to the lunch queue when someone thumped him on the back from behind. He turned and stared in bewilderment at a small figure that nearly disappeared in a mass of long, entangled curls and a beard that was even longer, if that was at all possible. Only the fact that that person, who was beaming up at him, only reached up to his chest clued him in on who he might be.

"Lakhri," he said faintly. "You look… changed."

"It's the latest fashion on Bar Natefl," said his former padawan cheerfully. "More importantly, no opportunity for a shave or a haircut for ages, and that means _ages_. Great to see you."

"When did you come back?" asked Eeth. "And where is Flynt?"

Lakhri chortled. "Having a shave and a haircut, as it might please you to hear. We just came back this morning. I was hungry, so I decided to postpone my own haircut and have lunch first."  
"How surprising," Eeth replied drily. In his experience, Lakhri was nearly always hungry.

Lakhri just laughed.

"Wanna sit with me?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Eeth. "But I am expecting someone. My new padawan, in actual fact. He is…" He glanced at his chrono and frowned. "… two minutes late already," he completed the sentence.

"Poor him," said Lakhri automatically, then frowned as well. "Wait a moment," he said slowly. "You've got a new padawan? What? Who? Since when? How?"  
Eeth raised his eyebrows.

"Why don't you sit back down before your lunch gets cold," he said calmly, "and let me get mine. I am sure my padawan will show up at some point and join us, before or after I have answered your many questions."

Lakhri rolled his eyes.

"Always so reasonable and organised," he said wryly. "Alright. Get your lunch. I'll exercise some patience, then."

Eeth sat with Lakhri five minutes later, depositing a tray with a plate of spicy stir-fried grains and a piece of fruit opposite his former padawan. There was still no sign of Lok.

"He is usually punctual," he told Lakhri, checking his chrono again.

"Well, that's one thing he's better at than Raven and me, then," replied Lakhri. "Good for him. Now will you please satisfy my curiosity?"

Eeth took a bite of stir-fry, chewed and swallowed it. He drank some water, with Lakhri watching impatiently, and finally acquiesced.

"Alright. His name is Lok," he said. "He is a Zabrak, he is thirteen years old and he has been my padawan for about four weeks. His former master, Jerad Delapar, had died of a virus and the Council had asked me to look after Lok. I did, and it turned out that we are a good match. Does that about answer your questions?"

Lakhri blinked.

"Overload," he said faintly. "So his former master died? Is he…"

His eyes widening slightly, he paused for a moment.

"Is he, by any chance, the young man with the split lip who's coming up behind you?" he finished the sentence.

Eeth turned and raised his eyebrows at the state of his padawan.

"Lok," he said evenly, and it did not sound altogether pleased. "You look as if you have been in a fight. Meet my former padawan Lakhri."

"Who has not had a shave or a haircut in at least a year," said Lakhri. "If Raven could join us now sporting blue hair and a nose-piercing, Eeth might just die of embarrassment to have raised such a scruffy bunch of padawans."

He grinned at Lok. "Hi, Lok," he said. "Nice to meet you. And don't worry. I don't usually look like this. I've just returned from a long-term mission."

Lok returned the grin, but it looked as if even the attempt was painful.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, putting his tray onto the table and sitting down next to Eeth whom he gave a slightly wary look.

"You're right, I've been in a fight," he said. "I'm supposed to tell you all about it. Master Covenin was going to send you a message to make sure I do."

"I can hardly wait," said Eeth drily. He dunked a paper napkin into his glass of water, let it soak up the cool liquid and gently held it against Lok's bloody lip. Lok flinched back a little at the unexpected move, but then he seemed to realise that Eeth was actually using the Force to heal the cut, or at least the worst of it, and that was rather welcome.

"Thank you, master," he said, and he meant it.

"You're welcome," said Eeth. "And I think we will not have that talk in the dining hall, let alone with Lakhri present. It can wait until we are home."  
"That's nice of you," said Lakhri innocently, "considering how sensitive I am."

"I'm sure Flynt would disagree," Eeth replied in a deadpan tone that had Lakhri chuckle.

"Anyway, Lok," said Lakhri, starting on his second dessert. "I'm one of the two people who have survived living with this tyrant. Tell me old age has got to him and he at least lets you sleep until six thirty."

Lok sighed. "No, unfortunately not," he replied. Being a morning person, he did not mind all that much, especially since his own master had not usually woken him up much later than that, but the comment still had him grin.

"Ah well," said Lakhri, giving the impression of being slightly disappointed. "At least he lets you eat your lunch in peace and gives you some privacy for those moments in which he's tearing you into pieces. He didn't have any qualms about spanking _me_ in front of hundreds of people."  
Eeth raised his eyebrows.

"That only ever happened once, and that was after you had yelled at me in front of hundreds of people," he said rather unhumorously. "Why is it that every time I have a new padawan, you find tremendous joy in digging up stories from my past?"

"Aww, c'mon, it only ever happened twice," Lakhri said carelessly, winking at Lok. Lok chortled into his soup. He could see that Lakhri was fun to be with.

Eeth just _glared_ at Lakhri and continued to eat.

"No, seriously, Lok," said Lakhri to the Zabrak boy, "if you ever need a break from Eeth, just give me a call."

"Thank you," said Lok, a little surprised, "and I'll be happy to give you a call any time, but I don't need a break from him."

Lakhri stared at him. " You don't?" he asked incredulously.

"Err, no," Lok replied, a little taken aback. "Should I?"

Eeth raised his eyebrows at the stunned look on Lakhri's face.

"You might feel that I have been a horrible master to you," he said, "but you are not being very polite about it. And as you might or might not have noticed, I _am_ seriously trying to improve."

"You have _not_ been a horrible master," Lakhri protested. "Just a tad… overbearing, maybe. And outrageously strict. And lacking a sense of humor. But not _horrible_."

"He's not horrible at all," said Lok quietly. "And he does have a sense of humor, even if he's trying not to make it too obvious."  
"Yes, I know that _now_ ," said Lakhri, "but when I was a padawan, it took me years to find that out. I'm impressed."  
"What, with my master or me?" asked Lok.

"Both," said Lakhri. "Sorry, Eeth. I meant no offense. Err… how would the two of you feel about some Careenian food? Like, tonight? Can I invite Flynt and myself for dinner, provided you haven't eaten your padawan by that point?"

"Yes," replied Eeth, stony-faced, "provided you have had a shave and a haircut by then."

Lakhri laughed and rose from his chair. "Sure thing," he said. "If it makes you happy. It will certainly make _me_ happy, anyway. See you then, Lok."

"I didn't expect him to be so cool!" said Lok as soon as Lakhri was gone. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but closed it again quickly.

"What?" asked Eeth.

"Nothing," said Lok innocently.  
"He does not get it from me, does he?" asked Eeth in amusement, quite certain that this was exactly what Lok had wanted to say.

Lok blushed and was intensely busy with his food for a minute.

When he finally looked up, it was with another question for Eeth.

"Were you really that bad or was Lakhri that difficult?" he asked.  
"He was no more difficult than other padawans his age," Eeth replied a little stiffly. "But I was harder on him than I ought to have been, and a lot more distant than I am with you."

He paused a little, then added, more softly: "I am glad that he holds no grudge. He has become a very accomplished Jedi, and I am truly proud of him."

Ten minutes later, they made their way back to their quarters, Eeth walking in his usual long strides while an entirely unenthusiastic Lok was dragging his feet. Eeth could sense that he was feeling guilty, which was unsurprising; in his experience, padawans who got into fights usually had reason to feel guilty.

"So," sat Eeth, pointing Lok to a chair at their dining table and sitting down opposite him. "What happened to give you a split lip?"  
Lok shrugged sullenly. "Fern happened," he said curtly. "A classmate."

There was a moment's silence. Then, Eeth said a tad coolly: "I do not appreciate having to drag it out of you, padawan."

Lok sighed. "Well, what shall I say?" he asked. "Classes were out, we were leaving the classroom and I overheard Fern saying that I should stop grabbing for attention. I asked him what that was supposed to mean, we got into an argument, then I, uhm, socked him one. Then he socked _me_ one. And then Master Covenin, who was just coming out of the classroom next to ours, separated us and gave us a lecture and said she'd notify our masters. She talked so much that I ended up being late for lunch. That about sums it up, I think."  
He looked at Eeth in a mixture of resignation and defiance.

Eeth raised his eyebrows.

" _Were_ you grabbing for attention?" he asked.

"What?" Lok exclaimed indignantly. "Of course not!"  
"Why would he have said you should stop to, then?" Eeth inquired. He could sense that there was more to the story than Lok was letting on, and that would not do.

"How should I know?" Lok asked, clearly irritated. "Maybe he hates my guts."

Eeth's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure that if you think long and hard, you can come up with something better than that," he said sternly.

Lok pursed his lips. "Are you suggesting I'm lying?" he snapped.

"No," said Eeth, "I am suggesting you are leaving out relevant information. That is unacceptable, as you very well know."

Lok folded his arms across his chest and silently glared at Eeth. That was the point at which Eeth decided that enough was enough. He rose, crossed over to where Lok was sitting, pulled the boy up by the ear, sat down on the chair himself, flung Lok across his lap, pulled out his paddle and brought it down onto the boy's trouser-clad bottom with as much force as he could, which was saying something. And he did all that in about ten seconds.

"OUCH!" yelled Lok. "What the– OWWW! Stoppit! YEOOWWW!"

Eeth did not reply. Instead, he focussed on giving his padawan a very good incentive to respond to his master's questions in appropriate ways. He paddled hard, fast and furiously, and Lok was soon howling, squirming and kicking.

After a good two dozen swats, Eeth paused, but did not let Lok up.

"Any new insights, padawan?" he asked, showing no signs of exertion.  
Lok drew in a ragged breath. "That I was wrong when I told Lakhri you're not horrible?" he retorted, trying hard to get his voice under control.

Eeth refused to rise to that challenge.

"Oh, I can be very horrible indeed when you give me reason to," he said grimly. "Are you going to give me an appropriate answer, or would you prefer to bring me the strap, pull down your pants and leave this discussion unable to sit before we have even started talking about your actual punishment for fighting?"

There was a moment's pause. Eeth could tell that Lok was searching for a way out, but failing to find one. He tapped the paddle onto the upturned bottom over his lap sharply to speed up the thought process.

Lok flinched and hissed.

"Alrighhhhht…" he said reluctantly. "But you're not going to like it."

Eeth yanked him up from his lap.

"I would not like it any more if I had to spank it out of you first," he said firmly. "Out with it."

"Werlllll…" Lok started, even more reluctantly. "It's like, I mean… I dunno, I, umm… OUCH!"  
He might have been standing, but that had not prevented Eeth from swatting his bottom with the paddle.

"Out with it," Eeth said grimly. "Now."  
"I might have given my teachers cheek a few times," Lok ground out, rubbing his bottom furiously. "Or talked back. Or, like made some remarks on what they were telling us. I dunno, I was kind of restless in class and – Force, I wasn't trying to grab for attention, I was just trying to make people laugh!"

"And did they?" Eeth asked coolly, not believing for one moment that this was about a desire to be humorous.

Lok shrugged. "Sometimes," he said.

"And at other times they were thinking you were grabbing for attention?" Eeth inquired.

Lok scowled.

"Fern was, but he's a git," he said with conviction.

"That might or might not be the case," Eeth said sharply, "but I am not interested in Fern, I am interested in you. What were you trying to accomplish by being rude to your teachers?"  
"I wasn't rude!" Lok protested. "I mean… not _rude_ rude."

Eeth just raised his eyebrows and gave him a _look_.

"Well, maybe I was a _little_ rude," Lok conceded in a slightly more polite voice. "And I have no idea what you want to hear from me."  
"Oh?" said Eeth, entirely unimpressed. "So you consider it normal to be 'a little rude' to your teachers? No reason to give me an explanation?"  
"No, of course not," said Lok, raising his hands in frustration. "What shall I say to that? You're impossible, really!"

"Maybe so," said Eeth calmly, "but I did not get into a fight, you did."

"Yes, and you may feel free to just punish me for it and get it over with," snapped Lok, "but I don't see what this interrogation has to do with it."

Eeth's mouth tightened into a firm line. He was not going to indulge this futile discussion a second longer. The paddling had obviously not been sufficient, so he needed to up the ante. Rising from his chair, he pushed Lok over the table and divested him of his trousers. The boy tried to wriggle free, but after Eeth had slapped the backs of his thighs twice, hard, he thought better of it. Eeth opened the clasp of his belt, deftly removed the appendages, pulled it out of its loops, doubled it over and brought it down onto Lok's bottom with medium force.

"OWW!" yelled Lok, reflexively clenching and unclenching his bottom.  
"This," said Eeth sternly, "is _not_ your punishment for getting into a fight. It is what you get for refusing to give satisfactory answers to my questions. I want to know how you came to act up in class in a manner that was annoying enough to irk some of your classmates, and I am going to keep at this until you have given the matter some thought and provided me with an explanation."

He raised the belt and brought it down again, slightly increasing the force behind the blow. Considering that Lok's bottom had already been quite soundly paddled, this hurt undoubtedly. But Lok was free to end this any time he liked, as far as Eeth was concerned.

"I don't _know_ why I did it!" Lok yelped in frustration. "Ouch! Stop this!"  
"No," Eeth said grimly. "You do know. Or you could if you thought about it."

He gave Lok a third stroke.

"Think," he ordered.

"OWW! I can't if you keep hitting me!" Lok all but shouted.

"Then you need to learn," Eeth said, completely unfazed, and brought the belt down onto the lower part of Lok's bottom.

Lok literally started to wail. Apparently, he realized that he needed to come up with something fast.

"I-I was fed up with everyone and everything!" he blurted out, trying to angle his hips out of harm's way. "I just w-wanted them to stop being so–" His voice was hitching and he was trying hard to suppress his sobs as he gasped for breath.

Eeth had raised the belt again, but now paused. He could sense that Lok was finally being truthful and he did not want to discourage that.

"What were they being?" he asked insistently.  
"They–they were all pitying me," Lok brought out desperately, obviously very intent on keeping Eeth from hitting him again. "They were so – so damn _nice_ , even when I didn't deserve it. They let me get away with everything. I wanted things to be normal and they treated me like I would break."  
"And so you were pushing for a reaction," said Eeth, understanding dawning on him. "You were behaving in a way that would have ordinarily earned you punishment."  
"It would have earned _anyone_ punishment," Lok complained bitterly. "But not me, apparently."  
"That can easily be remedied," Eeth said darkly. "Get up."

Lok gingerly straightened himself up, making a brief attempt to rub his bottom and wincing as his fingers touched the welts that Eeth's belt had raised. Granted, it had only been four strokes and they had not been as hard as they might have been, but they had been plenty bad enough.

"It was not you I was pushing for a reaction, you know," he pointed out, his voice still a little unsteady.

"Oh, I know," Eeth replied calmly while reattaching his belt. "But as you well know, breaking the rules will still reliably earn you one. Now. I will call your teachers and make sure they know not to tolerate any more nonsense from you. Cutting you slack is obviously not a good strategy, so they will have to stop doing that. I will ask them to punish you for your misbehavior in class as they see fit. I think your defiance has already sufficiently been dealt with, so that leaves the matter of fighting. And you know that is simply unacceptable."

Lok did not look too happy with all this, but he did not protest either.

"So, what's my verdict?" he asked a tad sullenly.

Eeth considered him for a moment.

"I will have to think about it," he finally said. "Go and do your homework. When you are done – and needless to say, I expect you to do a good job –, come back and see me."

Lok groaned. He opened his mouth to say something, took one look at Eeth's face and closed his mouth again. Grumbling under his breath, he retreated to his room.

Eeth went to the kitchen to make some tea, deep in thought. He did not feel entirely comfortable with the rate at which he was handing out corporal punishment. He was also aware that it was rather out of character for him to feel that way. Both Lakhri and Raven had found themselves over his knee for one thing or another fairly frequently in the early days of their padawanhood, and he had never had any qualms about that. Maybe it was because Lok had so recently lost his master, or maybe he himself had changed? Pondering this would not help him make a decision, however. Lok had quite clearly demonstrated that, despite his loss, he did not want special treatment. Nor did Eeth have the feeling that special treatment was doing the boy any good. From what Lok had told him, he knew that Jerad had firmly and consistently punished his padawan him for transgressing his boundaries; and that seemed to be exactly what the boy needed in order to function.

So, what alternatives to corporal punishment did he have? Lok was still struggling with completing his homework and catching up on what he had missed out on; and he had not completed his mandatory tutoring of creche children either. Assigning him further chores, tasks or meditation might be more than Lok could cope with right now. Grounding him would have no effect whatsoever since the boy still pretty much refused to leave their quarters unless he was forced to. Of course, Lok was usually very much on his dignity (which uncannily reminded Eeth of himself at that age). That thought, combined with the fact that starting a fight was considered a serious offense, settled things for Eeth.

Lok reappeared in the common room a considerable while later, data pads in hand, for Eeth had insisted on checking his homework ever since that fateful day on which it had turned out that Lok had systematically neglected to do most of it since the start of the cycle.

"Thank you," Eeth said, accepting the data pads and putting them aside. "You may hand me your lightsaber as well." He held out a hand.

The look on Lok's face told him that his padawan was instantly aware what he was asking for and why and that he did not like it one bit.

"You honestly want to take my saber away for… for…" he asked in a rather accusatory tone of voice, his hand hovering protectively over the hilt of his weapon.

"I honestly want to take your saber away for punching a fellow padawan into the face, yes," Eeth replied, stony-faced. "And I think you are entirely aware what a serious transgression this is, so there is really no need for debate. I will keep your saber for one week, and any further protests will add to that time."

He kept holding out his hand while he spoke.

Lok glared at him for a moment; then, he slowly and reluctantly unclipped his saber from his belt and gave it to Eeth.

Eeth accepted it wordlessly and clipped it to his own belt. Then he said: "Second, you will apologize to Fern in person."

Lok's glare intensified. "He will never stop gloating if I do that!" he snapped. "Even you must know that much!"  
"Whether or not he will gloat is entirely irrelevant," Eeth said sternly. "You are going to apologize, period. I'm not going to entertain any objections about that."

Lok looked as if he would have dearly loved to object, but knew exactly that if he did, Eeth would probably bend him right back over the table, so he bit back his retort.

"And you are going to do it now," Eeth went on. "Fern is home, I checked with his master. We can continue this discussion when you are back."  
Lok snorted. "I don't know if you know the meaning of the word 'discussion'," he said, "but a discussion is not what we're having. It's you telling me off and giving me orders."  
Eeth's eyes narrowed.

"So you think that this is a good moment to be smart?" he asked coolly. "Very well. Your point is taken. When you are back, I will refrain from having a discussion of any kind with you and immediately proceed with the rest of your punishment. That should put your concerns to rest. Now go. Fern and his master live in apartment 5246 in the south wing."

From his phone call with Fern's master, Eeth knew that she was acutely aware of her padawan's part in the affair and had punished him accordingly, which meant that Fern would not have much reason to gloat about Lok's apology or his lack of a saber. But Lok could find that out for himself. Eeth had also told Fern's master to notify him immediately if Lok's apology left anything to be desired. If that was the case, he would simply add to the boy's punishment.

Lok was very obviously not pleased with his instructions, but after already having received a dose of the paddle _and_ the belt for refusing to comply with his orders, he would have had to be very stupid to disobey again. He stomped off in bad grace. Eeth was half-expecting a comm call by Fern's master, but it did not come. Lok returned half an hour later, appearing much more composed and resigned to his fate than before.

"Alright, so I apologized," he said with a sigh. "What next?"

Eeth studied him for a moment, then opened his arms and said gently: "Come here."  
Lok practically fell into his hug; Eeth sensed gratitude, but also a certain amount of confusion through their bond.

"I know how hard it was for you to make that apology," he told Lok softly. "I am all the more glad that you did so – and managed to get your temper under control as well. That cannot have been an easy feat. Your punishment is not quite over, but that does not change the fact that I am proud of you."

"Thank you," said Lok quietly, leaning against his shoulder and relaxing. A moment later, though, he asked: "Master? Are _you_ like, going easy on me? I mean… for Force's sake, I started a fight! I _know_ that's a total no-go! What would you have done if Lakhri had done this?"

Eeth supposed the question had had to come up, at some point. He gripped Lok's shoulders and held him off at arm's length, forcing him to look into his face.

"If you mean to ask whether I hugged Lakhri when he might have needed me to, the answer is no, and I sincerely regret that now," he said solemnly. "If you mean to ask whether your punishment is going to be any lighter than Lakhri's would have been when he started a fight, the answer is no as well."  
Lok sighed. "Don't you think my bottom is sore enough already?" he asked rhetorically.

"Your bottom would not be sore at all if you had answered my questions exhaustively and respectfully," Eeth replied calmly. "What you received had nothing to do with your punishment for fighting and you know it. Now go and fetch me the cane. The normal one, not the thick one in the back."

The decision to use the cane had been a spur-of-the-moment one, maybe because Lok's question had reminded him of how he had used to deal with Lakhri and Raven when they had done something like this. More importantly, Lok very obviously needed to be shown that he was not being treated with pity on account of his special situation. He wanted his life to return back to normal, and that meant that punching another padawan into the face was a serious case of misconduct and was going to be punished severely.

To Eeth's relief, Lok did not raise a fuss; he merely swallowed and gave a brief nod. Eeth released him, folded his arms across his chest and watched as the boy slowly made his way to the cupboard and opened the door. Upon spotting the cane, he hesitated, but not for long; he took it and brought it back to Eeth. Eeth accepted it and pulled out one of the high-backed chairs at the dining table. They had just the right height for Lok who was rather tall.

"Bare your bottom and bend over," he instructed.

Lok pulled a face, but he obeyed. Eeth got the impression that he had used up his potential for defiance for today, which was all for the better. He waited until Lok was in position, stood behind him and brought the cane down onto his bottom in a swift, well-practiced motion.

Twelve firm strokes of the cane later, Lok was a sobbing mess, but he had not resisted his punishment. Eeth sensed acceptance in him and even a certain degree of relief; and he suddenly felt a strong surge of affection for his padawan. He allowed the boy some time to regain his composure and then gently helped him up, offering him another hug. Lok fell into the embrace gratefully.

"What a mess of a day," he mumbled into Eeth's robes, his breath hitching.

"I will do my best to make sure that your teachers provide you with more… structure than they have had so far," Eeth replied wryly. "That might reduce the chances of a repeat occurrence."

Lok gave a tearful laugh.

"I don't know why I'm like that," he said a little more calmly, "but you're right, I do need to know where the limits are and that they won't change. I get out of control when that doesn't happen. My master… Jerad… he recognized it, and you do, too."  
Looking up at Eeth with rather red and puffy eyes, he said solemnly: "Thanks."  
"You're welcome," said Eeth quietly. "No more fighting, please."

Lok shook his head.

"There won't be," he promised. And Eeth could tell that he meant it.


	12. Chapter 12: Lok

Lok was racing the conference delegates through a dark forest. The trees were growing progressively denser, and there was only one path. His master, Jerad, had told him he'd intercept the delegates. He needed to appear from between the trees any moment. He had to; Lok's legs were growing heavier and heavier, and he was losing sight of the delegates who had seemed to sprout wings and…

"Lok! Wake up!" someone called, shaking his shoulder.

"Hrrr?" he muttered, turning away from the insistent hand and pulling his pillow over his head. It was yanked away firmly.

"Lok," said his master's voice again; Eeth's voice, not Jerad's. "You need to wake up." 

Lok groaned and rolled around. Blinking, he saw Eeth's silhouette standing in front of his bed, illuminated by the light from the common room. Eeth was wearing his full Jedi attire.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily. "Don't tell me it's six already."

"Three thirty," replied Eeth.

Alright, so something was wrong. Even Eeth was not dressed in full Jedi robes at three thirty in the morning unless there was an emergency.

Sitting up, Lok asked: "What's up? Have we been assigned a mission?" He could not resist adding: "Or do you want to throw me out of our quarters again?"

There was a reason for him to ask that question. Just last night, after dinner, Eeth had very firmly told his padawan that he needed to get back among people and that he was _not_ going to spend the evening in their quarters like he had done for the past seven weeks or so. He was free to do whatever he wanted, as long as it was within the Temple and not against any rules, but he was not going to do it in their quarters. Lok had briefly pondered staging a sit-in in the corridor, in front of their door, but at second thought that idea had seemed rather silly to him. He had wandered about aimlessly for a while and had somehow wound up in the padawan lounge where he had spent a surprisingly good evening with a number of friends who were all genuinely glad to see him. It would have felt great if it had not been for the lingering guilt about the fact that he was daring to enjoy himself.

When he had returned home, right on time, Eeth had not even asked what he had done, which had been slightly irritating although Lok had had no particular desire to admit that Eeth had managed to make him go to the padawan lounge quite that easily. It was all very confusing and annoying. Even more annoyingly, Eeth now simply ignored Lok's jab. He merely said: " _We_ have not been assigned a mission. I have."

"WHAT?" yelled Lok and jumped up. Unfortunately, he was not yet fully awake and his feet were entangled in his blanket, with the result that he fell onto the floor with a loud crash and banged his left kneecap against his night table in the process. The pain was blinding; Lok suppressed the howl that was threatening to emerge, but rolled onto his back, white-faced and grimacing in pain, clutching his knee. Eeth was at his side in a flash. He laid a hand on Lok's head, sending him a brief surge of calming energy through their bond, then cupped Lok's knee in both hands, using the Force to soothe the pain. Slowly, the pain ebbed away and Lok's head cleared.

"Sorry, master," he said sheepishly, sitting up and leaning against the bed. He drew a deep and shaking breath in an effort to calm himself.

"There is nothing to be sorry for," replied Eeth, sitting back against the wall. "Are you ready to listen now?"

Lok nodded quietly although he dreaded what Eeth was going to tell him. If his master had been assigned a mission, and not both of them, that probably meant he would have to leave Lok behind. Sure, Lok supposed he could stay with Gwened, or Lakhri and Flynt, but he honestly had no idea whether he could cope without the safety that being with Eeth provided. Would they be able to deal with his nightmares and coach him through his homework the way Eeth did? He had no idea, and no desire to find out. Looking at Eeth with large, pleading eyes, he hoped with all his might that this was all a misunderstanding; that Eeth had told the Council to just bugger off and let him stay here.

"Last year, I have spend several months on the planet of Mahau, trying to negotiate a truce in a bloody civil war between rebels from a suppressed species and a government consisting of supremacists of their own species," Eeth said. "Despite the war's huge blood toll, I was eventually unsuccessful because the resistance on both sides against any kind of compromise was just too high. Now the rebels have managed to seize the capital city's Upper House and have taken the members of the current government as hostages. They refuse to negotiate with the government directly and have asked for a Jedi mediator. Since I am the only person at the Temple who is familiar with the conflict, I need to leave, and fast."

"I'm not staying behind," Lok said immediately. "I'm coming with you."  
"That," said Eeth reprovingly, "is not up to you to decide."  
Lok opened his mouth in protest, but Eeth held up his hand, silencing him.  
"Nevertheless," he continued, "the Council is aware how difficult it would be for you to be left behind without me, and I am aware of it as well. We also know that you are not entirely inexperienced. With Jerad, you were close to receiving an upgrade on your mission status. However, this mission is potentially dangerous. Very dangerous. Even with the upgrade, it would not be a mission of a type that a thirteen-year-old padawan would be assigned. Perhaps even more importantly, there are psychological issues at stake. Can you honestly tell me that you could cope with watching me risk my life?"

Lok stared at Eeth. The idea that once again he might lose a master who was growing dear to him was too dreadful to consider.

"No," he whispered, pulling his knees back into his chest. "No. But I couldn't cope with staying back here and knowing that you are out there risking your life either."

"I know," said Eeth matter-of-factly," and I told the Council as much. That is why we are going for a third option. I give you twenty minutes to get dressed and pack your things. You will come with me, but you are not going to assist me in the mission. A second master-padawan team will have been asked to join us by now. One of them will assist me while the other one will stay at the starship with you, ready to take off at the slightest sign of danger."

"What?" Lok asked indignantly, his head snapping up so he could glare at Eeth. "No way! I don't need a freaking babysitter!"

"Listen to me," Eeth said in a low, stern voice that had Lok know instantly how deadly serious his master was. "Lives are at stake here. I have no time to lose; I need to be at the hangar in half an hour. This mission is going to be dangerous, and the most sensible option by far would be to leave you here. Taking into account your psychological situation, I am willing to let you accompany me, but only on my terms. If you do not like them, you may stay behind. Your choice. You have…" He glanced at the chrono. "…eighteen minutes left to make it. I am not going to discuss this, I need to pack my things."  
Without further ado, he rose and made for his room.

Lok scowled and thumped his night stand in frustration. Was the whole world bent on annoying him?

However, since from among the two unsatisfactory options he had, staying back at the Temple was decidedly the more unsatisfactory one, he needed to get dressed and pack, and do it fast. Lok had never had to pack fast; all the missions he had been to with his former master had allowed them at least a day or so to prepare. Lok quickly pulled off his pajamas and dumped them down the laundry chute, got dressed into a set of comfortable workout clothes, threw multiple sets of clothes and most of the items in his refresher into the two large bags he owned and considered the job done. On second thought, he packed a few data pads; Eeth might want to torture him with school work. He was just about to leave his room when it occurred to him that he might need a pair of pajamas as well. Finally, he emerged into the common room at the same time as Eeth who was carrying one bag only.

Eeth gave him a brief nod.

"Alright, let's go," he said simply and took off. Lok struggled to keep up with him as they made their way to the hangar; it was only four in the morning, after all, and he was weighed down by two rather heavy bags. He resolved to ask Eeth to teach him to pack more efficiently at some point.

"How long is the flight going to take?" he asked Eeth as they entered the turbolift. He had never heard of Mahau and had no clue where the place might be.  
"Two days," replied Eeth. "And that is with the fastest ship the Temple can offer us. I sincerely hope that by the time we arrive, there will still be someone left to rescue."

"Do you reckon you'll be able to talk the rebels into releasing their hostages?" asked Lok. "Or will you have to rescue them the hard way?"  
"Unfortunately, I am not endowed with the gift of foresight," Eeth answered drily. "I will do what I have to do, and I will also have to take the possibility of failure into account."  
Lok could not quite imagine Eeth failing at anything, but he had enough experience to know that every Jedi encountered failure at some point.

The turbo lift doors swished open. Lok hoisted up his bags and made his way into the hangar, following Eeth to a small light starship that looked rather battered; but Lok knew enough of starships to see that it was bound to be fast.

"It will be a bit cramped, with four of us," said Eeth, palming the door release and stepping aside as the ramp came down, "but it will get us to Mahau faster than any other means of transportation. I will prepare the ship for take-off immediately. Please take our luggage to one of the cabins and wait for the rest of the team. I have no idea who they are, but they should be here any moment."

Lok watched Eeth disappear behind the door to the bridge, then, with a sigh, picked up all three bags and struggled to carry them to where he hoped the cabins were. They were not hard to find; the ship was really very small. There were two of them, holding two bunk beds each, and a refresher in the middle; he dropped Eeth's and his bags in the right one and went back to the ramp. Peeking out, he saw a strange pair hurry into the hangar, consisting of a very small and a very tall and lanky person. He knew immediately who they were and had to grin despite himself.

"So, you are the rest of our team?" he greeted Lakhri and Flynt who looked as if the Council's call had torn them right out of their sleep, which it probably had.  
"We are," said Lakhri. "I guess we were the obvious choice. We were available, both of us speak Bocce, and Flynt was just looking for the one last mission that will allow him to gain experience before his knighting. That, and you'll at least know the person who's looking after you. Come on, let's get in. I bet Eeth is in a hurry to depart."

Barely ten minutes later, they were strapped into their seats in the cockpit as the ship took off into space. Lok was sitting next to Lakhri and behind Eeth who, he noticed, was acting as a co-pilot to Flynt. A stab of jealousy shot through him. The general feeling of annoyance that had accompanied him since last night arose again, and the fact that he was lacking several hours' worth of sleep did not help.

"My master has already taught me some starship navigation," he told Eeth as he watched Flynt handle the controls.

"Yes, and I will continue teaching you," Eeth said a little absent-mindedly while entering the coordinates for entry into hyperspace, "but not when we are pressed for time."

"I'm not all that useless, you know," Lok retorted, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice.

"And I did not say you were," Eeth said sternly. "Now kindly let Flynt and me focus on getting us on our way. Atmospheric traffic is dense tonight."

Lok scowled, his annoyance rising at what he perceived of as Eeth treating him like a toddler. However, he did keep his mouth shut, partly because Lakhri had placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, smiled at him and mouthed: „Careful – Eeth is in mission mode." Lok really liked Lakhri, and he knew that, as far as babysitters went, he could have fared much worse than Lakhri and Flynt.

When they had finally reached lightspeed and the stars around them had turned into stripes, Eeth turned around on his chair.

„Lok, go to our cabin and try to get some more sleep," he said, not unkindly. „You need it."

"What, and you don't?" asked Lok indignantly. "If you can stay up, I will stay up as well." Besides his general discomfort with being treated like a child, he had the vague feeling that Eeth might want to Lakhri and Flynt about him while he wasn't around, and that would just not do.

The scowl that Eeth directed at him clearly told him that his master was unimpressed with his response.

"You," said Eeth, "are going to bed. If nothing else, it might help improve your mood."  
"There's nothing wrong with my mood!" Lok all but yelled.

Eeth rose, a grim expression on his face.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said to Lakhri and Flynt, then grabbed the base of Lok's padawan braid and pulled him upwards.

"Padawan, we need to talk," he snapped. "In our cabin. Now. And I am not interested in any of your objections."

Alright, so that was unambiguous, not to speak of the fact that it hurt. Scowling fiercely, Lok gave a curt nod and, when Eeth had released his hold on his braid, turned on his heels and made for their cabin. As soon as they arrived there, he turned on his master.

"So now you're going to put me to bed like a toddler?" he snapped in a tone of voice that was remarkably like Eeth's when the man was displeased. "Are you going to spoon-feed me next?"

Eeth looked at him with narrowed eyes. "No, but I am going to put you across my knee and spank some sense into you unless you lose the attitude right now," he replied sharply. "Now you listen to me, and listen well because I am not going to repeat myself. You are not a part of this mission team. You are my padawan who, for exceptional reasons, is allowed to accompany me. That might not be a comfortable position for you to be in, but you will need to get used to it, and get used to it fast, or you will complicate things needlessly, and that is something we cannot afford. This mission is both critical and dangerous and therefore, my orders are not to be trifled with. When I tell you, or any member of my mission team, to do something, you do it. Should you feel a need to voice objections, think carefully about whether they are valid and important objections and whether it is the the appropriate moment to voice them. If the answer to any of these questions is 'no', you had better drop them. Now, I told you to go back to sleep. Both of us know that you are tired. The only reason for you to protest was that you did not feel like obeying my orders and wanted to stay up with the adults. And that is unacceptable."  
"Maybe I would have an easier time obeying your orders if you weren't so damn condescending," Lok burst out. "Staying up with the adults, my arse!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew that he had made a mistake, but it was too late. In a flash, he found himself braced against his master's hip, staring at the ugly duraplast floor, and a hard hand exploding against his backside. He tried to take it as stoically as he could in order to minimize his embarrassment, but Eeth did not let up on him as fast as Lok would have hoped; by the time his master was done, he was sniffling and his bottom was burning.

"Are you going to bed, or shall we continue?" Eeth asked evenly without releasing his hold on his padawan.

Lok still felt angry, but he was smart enough to see that this was getting him nowhere.

"I'm going to bed," he ground out.

"Alright," said Eeth, releasing his hold on his padawan. "Do you want to get changed or sleep like you are?"  
Lok was wearing workout clothes, and he did not intend to sleep anyway, so he wordlessly lay down on his bed just as he was. To his surprise, Eeth knelt down next to his bunk.

"Padawan, you will feel better after a couple more hours' sleep," he said softly. "And then we will meditate together to help you deal with your anger. But tired or not, meditation or not, you need to learn to pull yourself together better than you have done now if you want to take Flynt's place in the foreseeable future."  
Lok's face flushed in shame. He had not seen it like that, of course; and he suddenly realized how childishly he had behaved.

"Yes, master," he said in a small voice. "Sorry."  
"Apology accepted," said Eeth gently. "Shall I help you fall asleep?"

After a moment's hesitation, Lok nodded.

"Yes, please," he said quietly. Eeth rested a hand on the boy's forehead and sent him a sleep compulsion through their bond. Two minutes later, Lok was fast asleep.


	13. Chapter 13: Lok

"Hiya," Lok said through a yawn as he slouched into the galley, just having woken up from sleep with a growling stomach. "Is there any breakfast, by any chance?"  
Eeth, who was sitting at the table studying a data pad, looked up at him and smiled. "Yes, there is," he said, pointing to a pot of porridge. "Starship food, I am afraid. Nourishing, but very bland."

"Better than nothing," Lok, who had already made his own experiences with spaceship travel, said with a shrug and sat down.

"Where are Lakhri and Flynt?" he asked as he ladled himself some porridge into a bowl.

"Flynt is manning the cockpit, and Lakhri is asleep," Eeth replied. "They are going to switch soon, I think."

Lok was glad to hear that he was not the only one who was deemed in need of sleep. On the other hand, how typical of his master to be the only one to stay awake!

It was strange, he thought. Until a short while ago, Lok had practically idolized Eeth, strict though the man could be if the occasion warranted it, but for some reason, he lately found himself constantly annoyed with one thing or another that his master said and did.

Eeth was looking at Lok as the boy shoveled a spoonful of food into his mouth quite forcefully, discontent written across his face.

"I think," he said, "you really need that meditation I promised you. I have no idea why, but your frustration is almost tangible."

That was nothing but the plain truth, but it still annoyed Lok. He scowled and continued eating.

When he was done, Eeth took him to their room where they meditated, as they usually did at least once a day, on helping Lok to release his negative emotions into the Force. It worked, to some extent; but Lok was clinging to his frustration a lot more than he usually did. If Eeth noticed, though – and he almost certainly did –, he did not comment.

"What's happening now?" Lok asked Eeth when they were finished. Spaceship travel was always dull, especially when the ship was so small. He had no idea if there was an opportunity for a workout of any kind.

"Now I will get some rest," Eeth replied calmly. "I had hardly any sleep last night, and the mission will most likely be exhausting. It would be extremely negligent of me not to get as much sleep as possible while I can. "

"Hmm," said Lok sullenly. A while ago, it had irritated him that Eeth seemed to act as if he needed no sleep at all; now it irritated him that his master was just going to leave him to his own devices. "And what do I do while you sleep?"

"It will please you to hear that your teachers have sent you your lessons," Eeth replied drily. "They are available on the terminal in the galley. Lakhri will be up by now; he will be happy to help you."

Lok frowned. Lakhri might be good at explaining things, but he wanted his master! Of course, that was a selfish impulse and one he kept to himself; but it did not help his general feeling of annoyance.

Eeth gave Lok a scrutinizing Lok. "Anything the matter?" he asked.

Damn your perceptiveness! thought Lok. Out loud, he merely said: "No." And that was that.

Lakhri was indeed helpful; Lok had started learning Bocce half a year ago and Lakhri was good at it. Still, Lok was glad when his master reappeared from their room and took charge of lunch. Lok helped readily while Lakhri went to drag Flynt out of bed, and soon they were seated around the table and eating some unidentifiable type of spaceship food that Eeth nevertheless had managed to make taste a little better than it usually did. Nevertheless, Lok was feeling unbalanced. He was bored already, and the prospect of sitting on this spaceship for an indefinite amount of time while Eeth and Flynt were trying to rescue hostages did not sit well with him.

"We will still have to decide who is going to join me in my mission and which one of you is staying with Lok," said Eeth.

Lok scowled. "It's not as if I need a babysitter," he pointed out.

Eeth glared at him.

"You are not staying on this ship alone while the planet is on the brink of civil war," he said brusquely.

"Take Flynt," Lakhri intervened quickly in a rather transparent effort to stop the exchange between Lok and Eeth from escalating. "He is going to undergo his trials soon, and he'll need all the experience he can get."

"Yes, that is what I thought as well," Eeth replied, the edges of his mouth quirking upwards very slightly at the look of relief on Flynt's face. "Even though the negotiations will be in Bocce, and your command of Bocce is better than anyone else's at this table."

Lakhri raised his eyebrows.

"You don't need to pay me compliments, you know," he said drily. "I'm happy to stay on the ship even without the extra effort to make me feel good."

"I am not making any particular effort to make you feel good, I am telling the truth," Eeth replied with a frown. "Your Bocce was better than mine even by the time you were seventeen."

"Sixteen and three quarters," said Lakhri with a deadpan expression on his face.

"Seventeen," said Eeth with an equally deadpan expression.

Flynt laughed at the banter. Under ordinary circumstances, Lok would have laughed as well, but today, he did not find it funny. He just rolled his eyes in an aggravated sort of manner and asked: "So, is Lakhri staying with me or is he going to put his extraordinary language skills to some use?"

Eeth gave him a quelling look.

"I was getting to that," he said. "There is one important factor that settles the issue. The Mahauans all belong to one species, the main variation being that the ruling class has black fur and the rebels, who call themselves Awaré, have reddish-brown one. They are a fairly tall species; an adult Mahauan is a head taller than Flynt or me, on average. The differences in size between individual Mahauans are small, but the Mahauans pay great attention to them. Smaller means less important, especially among the rebels. So, taking Lakhri would simply not be a very good idea."

"That makes sense," Lakhri said readily. "And Flynt's Bocce is really not bad at all. I'll stay with Lok, then."

He smiled at Lok, and Lok returned the smile, albeit rather reluctantly.

Eeth seemed to pick up on his dissatisfaction; when they had finished eating, he gave Lok another one of these scrutinizing looks that seemed to become a habit with him and said: "I think you are in dire need of a workout."

"Yeah, well, is there any space where I could have one?" Lok inquired.

Eeth nodded. "There is a lower deck that contains a small cargo hold. It is not big enough to hold all four of us, though. You may work out with me, or you could do so with Lakhri or Flynt instead. It is always helpful to work with Jedi other than your own master every once in a while."  
Lok snorted, feeling hurt by what he considered an attempt, on Eeth's part, to get out of having to spend time with him. "So you're eager to dump me off on someone else before the mission even starts," he said contemptuously. "Don't bother. I don't need a workout all that badly."

There was a moment's silence. Lakhri and Flynt exchanged a knowing look that had "poor kid" written all over it. Eeth glared at Lok and rose.

"Oh, I believe you do," he said quietly. "And I will gladly oblige you. Come."

He beckoned Lok towards the corridor where a door opened to a staircase that led into the cargo hold Eeth had mentioned. Lok entered hesitantly, giving his master a wary look because he knew exactly how unacceptable his outbreak had been and he did not expect Eeth to let it slide. Eeth, however, seemed unperturbed; he shed his robe, dumped it onto a crate and made his way to a small closet that held a few basic training implements. He picked a couple of ropes and tossed one to Lok.

"Start skipping," he ordered. Lok groaned. He could see where this was going. Eeth had never before used workouts as punishment, but apparently, that was going to change now.

"Master, I'm sorry," he said hastily. "Can't we talk about this?"

"No, we cannot," Eeth said forbiddingly. "You wanted my attention, I am giving it to you. I am even going to join you in your workout. You have no reason to complain - unless you don't start skipping within the next seconds, in which case you will have ample reason for complaint."

That set Lok going. Unenthusiastically, he started skipping. He was not at all in bad shape and he usually enjoyed his workouts with Eeth, even when they were strenuous, but none of the things that Eeth made him do today were remotely among his favorite activities, and Eeth drove him on relentlessly. This was made worse by the fact that, although Eeth did exactly the same things as he did, by the time Lok felt about ready to collapse, Eeth was hardly breaking a sweat. Normally, Lok was perseverant and followed Eeth's instructions without much whining or protest, but today, after about forty minutes of relentless drills, he simply did not want to go on.

"I need a break," he told Eeth, lying starfished on the floor.

"I will be the judge of that," said Eeth, stony-faced. "Get up."

"No," said Lok fiercely. Of course, he knew exactly that you did not tell your master "no". Jerad would not have stood for it, and Eeth would stand for it even less. But Lok was feeling so annoyed by now that he was past caring.

Eeth glared at him for a moment. Then he bent down, grabbed the front of Lok's tunic and pulled him up, forcing him to look his master in the face.

"WHAT," asked Eeth (and to Lok's surprise, he sounded more exasperated than angry), "is the matter with you? I understand that you are unhappy about your situation, not being able to assist me in this mission, but we both know that cannot be helped. Why are you being so defiant? Whatever I do, whatever I decide, seems to irritate you and make you behave in a manner that is entirely unacceptable. Do you you want to test how often you can manage to be spanked in one day? Is that what you are aiming for? Because if it is, you are going about it the right way."

Lok gulped. Put like that, yes, he _was_ pushing it, and he had no clue why he had ever thought this would be a good idea.

"I don't know why I'm so angry," he said in frustration. "A lot of the things you say and do annoy me lately, but I have no idea why."

Eeth let go of his shirt, but the look he gave him showed clearly that Lok was not off the hook.

"From my experience," Eeth said quietly, "when humanoids enter adolescence, their hormones run wild. And there might be other issues involved as well; once we are back, you will have to talk to Ngka about it. For now, though, you had better pull yourself together because I am not going to tolerate any further insolence."

He pointed with his chin towards the middle of the room.

"Push-ups," he said. "Now. Your workout ends when I say so, not when you feel that you have had enough."

Lok gritted his teeth, but he had no real desire to be subjected to one of Eeth's spanking because they freakin' _hurt_ , and he knew realistically that this was exactly what was going to go down if he refused. So he complied – with bad grace, but he complied. That was quite an accomplishment. More specifically, what it accomplished was postponing the second spanking of the day until dinnertime…


	14. Chapter 14: Eeth

Eeth made Lok work out for a full ninety minutes, and he did not go easy on the boy. This was meant to be a punishment for his less than stellar behaviour, after all; and besides, it might actually do him some good since being cooped up in a small spaceship was rarely conducive to improving a restless teenager's mood. Eeth did join Lok in the workout because he considered it imperative to maintain his own physical condition. That, and he wanted to make a point, that point being that he was still stronger than Lok and well able to take him in hand. After ninety minutes of vigorous exercises, Eeth was sweating and feeling the strain on his muscles, but he was nowhere near his physiological limit. Lok, on the other hand, was. He was doubled over, hands on his thighs, panting.

Eeth opened a closet, took out a drink pack and tossed it to Lok. Lok only just managed to catch it before it hit the opposite wall.

„Y-You might have given me warning," he wheezed in a half-accusatory tone of voice.

„Why?" asked Eeth, unperturbed. „You do have Jedi reflexes; you did catch it. Drink it. It is a rehydrating solution. And take a hot shower; it will prevent your muscles from becoming too sore."

Lok snorted. „If you don't want my muscles to be sore, you need only listen to me when I tell you I've had enough," he ground out.

„If you want me to listen to you, lose the attitude first," Eeth snapped. He had had about enough of Lok's cheek and it showed in the glare that he levelled at his padawan. Lok made to reply, but then he caught the glare and seemed to think better of it - very wisely so, since Eeth strongly felt that he had been more than lenient enough for today.

Lok sullenly finished his drink and slouched off to take a shower. Since there was only one shower, Eeth contented himself with a wash and a fresh outfit and then went to find Lakhri and Flynt. They were both in the cockpit, with Lakhri quizzing Flynt on military terminology in Bocce.

When they next paused, Eeth said: „I will need to brief your padawan on the mission, Lakhri."

„Sure," said Lakhri. „Do you mind if I stay? I'd feel better if I had a clearer idea what I'm supposed to be protecting Lok from. Where is he, anyway?"

„Taking a shower," replied Eeth. „And sulking, I suppose. I have no idea what is the matter with him at the moment."  
„Well, he's probably not too happy with having to stay on the ship," Lakhri pointed out. „And jealous of Flynt to boot."

„Yes, obviously he is," Eeth said, „but there is more to it. He has been frustrated and moody even before he heard the news of this mission. He is admitting it himself, but he has no idea what is causing his resentment."

„Adolescence?" asked Flynt.

„Probably so," said Eeth, „but I am not sure that is all there is to it. I asked him to discuss it with his soul healer once we are back. For now, we will just have to cope. And he will have to settle down, and fast. I have just about reached the end of my patience."

„Well, if even _you_ have reached the end of your legendary patience, it must be very bad indeed," Lakhri quipped with a grin.

Eeth very ostensibly did not rise to that. He merely said: „Let us start with our mission briefing. Do I have your attention?"

Half an hour later, Lok slouched into the cockpit, his hair still moist from the shower and a rather sullen look on his face. Eeth was talking at that point, giving a concise resumé of the negotiations he had failed to bring to a successful outcome. He acknowledged Lok's presence with a nod and continued talking. Lok plopped into a seat and listened for a while. When Lakhri asked a question and Eeth answered, he rolled his eyes and faked suppressing a yawn. When Eeth went on to talk about the events that had occurred since his failure in the negotiations, Lok finally said out loud, right in the middle of Eeth's talk: "I'm hungry. Do we have anything to eat?"

Lakhri and Flynt exchanged a look that had "he must be suicidal" written all over it. Eeth, however, did not even appear to have heard. He calmly finished his explanation, then turned to Lok and said: "It is not dinnertime yet by a long shot. If you are hungry, get yourself an energy bar from the galley. And if you are bored, I can easily find something for you to do. How about writing one hundred times 'I will not interrupt my master while he is speaking'? That should keep you busy for a while."

"Ha ha, very funny," said Lok disparagingly, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet on the console. Lakhri and Flynt exchanged another knowing look as Eeth's eyes narrowed. He had not, in fact, been entirely serious about his proposal; he had been perfectly willing to drop it in exchange for a sincere apology. Giving him a flippant remark instead, however, had not been a good idea on Lok's part. As Lakhri knew by now, and Lok apparently did not, it was a surefire way of turning a half-hearted threat into a rather embarrassing and very real experience.

Eeth rummaged around in his robe for a moment and produced a data pad and stylus.

"Here," he said sternly, holding it out to Lok. "Get started."

Lok folded his arms over his chest. "You must be delusional if you think I'm going to write lines for you," he said crossly. "I'm thirteen, not seven, for Force's sake!"

At this point, Eeth was about ready to put him across his knee, audience and all, had it not been for Lakhri who put a restraining hand on Eeth's arm.

"Lok, I really think you've reached used up the amount of lenience that Eeth is going to grant you for today," he said solemnly. "And I'm speaking out of experience here. If I, as a padawan, had been as disrespectful as you are being, I would have found myself starting at the floor long ago. Eeth is actually being tolerant with you, but that tolerance is only going to last for so long. Your only choice at this point is to accept the data pad and start writing or to receive a sore bottom and then start writing. We both know that's not much of a choice to make. Being thirteen, not seven, you are probably able to figure that out for yourself. C'mon. Just do what your master told you."

Lok look at Lakhri, then at Eeth who had put on as stern a face as he could muster, which was really saying something, and who was still holding out the data pad. Scowling, he snatched the data pad, rose and turned to leave.

"I expect the lines to be written by dinnertime," said Eeth coolly.

"Yes," ground out Lok, without looking at him, and stomped off.

"You know," Lakhri remarked mildly, "you _would_ have spanked me several times over if I had dared treat you like that."

Eeth was silent for a moment. Then he said: "Yes. I was sometimes too harsh with you. And maybe I am being too lenient with Lok. I am taking into account the mitigating circumstances. But if he has not cooled down by the time he has finished his lines and starts talking to me with a minimum of respect, he _will_ be in for quite a rude awakening after all."

"D'you think he's pushing you?" asked Lakhri. "I mean, all this rudeness is a bit over the top. It's hardly unintentional."

Eeth raised his eyebrows. "If he is pushing for a reaction," he said quite simply, "I will not disappoint him."

Lakhri rolled his eyes. "As if we'd ever expect you to do that," he said, which had Flynt chuckle. More seriously, he added: "Ordinarily, I'd tell you to go easy on him. But I'm not entirely sure that would be sound advice."

Eeth regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment. "Ordinarily," he finally said, "I would have put him across my knees long ago. But I was not entirely sure that would be the right approach either."

"Well," said Flynt, "I just hope for his sake he settles down, or we will all find out."

"So do I," said Eeth quietly. "Now. Did you have any questions about last month's insurgency?"

When they finished up three hours later, close to dinnertime, Lok had not reappeared. Nor was he in the galley.

"You go look after your padawan," Lakhri told Eeth. "Flynt and I will take care of dinner."

"Thank you," said Eeth and went to look for Lok. His padawan had raised his shields tightly, but Eeth could tell that he was not in their small sleeping quarters. He finally found Lok in the same cargo hold that they had had their workout in. After all, there were not that many hiding places on the ship large enough for a thirteen-year-old Zabrak.

Lok was lying on his belly on the floor, the data pad in front of him, the stylus in hand, but he was not currently writing. Nor did he at all react to Eeth's entry.

"Have you not finished yet?" asked Eeth neutrally. One hundred lines really should not have taken more than an hour or two, especially since he knew that Lok was not a particularly slow writer.

"Nope," Lok replied curtly. And nothing more.

"How many have you completed?" Eeth inquired, a tad more sternly.

Lok rolled around, sat up and shrugged. "No idea, I didn't count," he said flippantly. "What's it matter to you?"

"It matters because I told you to be finished by dinnertime, and that is in ten minutes," Eeth snapped. "Give me the data pad."

Lok hesitated for a second, but seemed to come to the conclusion that outright disobedience was probably not in his best interest. He handed the data pad to Eeth very casually, but the casualness was a bit too demonstrative to be convincing.

Eeth scanned the pad briefly. Then he counted, his eyes narrowing.

Lok, in the meanwhile, stood up and stretched.

"I'm going to go and see what's for dinner," he informed Eeth and made to leave the room. He did not make it very far, though, before a hand snatched the back of his shirt and pulled him back.

"You are not going to walk out on me," Eeth informed him in a voice of tightly controlled fury. "I have tolerated altogether too much disrespect from you. It stops here and now." He pocketed the data pad and dragged Lok to the side of the room where a crate was standing.

"Hey!" Lok protested, trying to wriggle free. "Lemme go! I _was_ going to finish the lines, I was just…"

"Too late," Eeth cut him short. "You took three hours to write no more twenty-seven lines. You know exactly that this was not what I expected of you. And that is hardly my only complaint about your behaviour today."

He sat down on the crate and snapped: "Bare your bottom and get over my lap. Now. If it takes you longer than ten seconds, I will add a dozen with my belt. And there will be no need for talking."

Lok looked at him with wide eyes, apparently debating whether to throw a tantrum or obey without question; but in do-or-die situations like these, as Eeth had already observed, Jerad's training usually kicked in. And thus, ten seconds later, Lok was lying across his lap, his bottom bared, resentment radiating off him. Eeth steeled himself against any feelings of regret or pity he might have, however; he had tried leniency, after all, and it clearly did not work for Lok.

"This is far overdue," he said grimly, bringing his hand down in a very hard swat. He did not usually take his paddle on missions, but that was not a problem because if he really wanted to, he could make his hand hurt just as much, it just took a little more effort. Right now, he definitely wanted to. Lok, despite the high tolerance for pain that was part of his Zabrak heritage, flinched and hissed. Eeth swatted him a second time.

"Stop it, for fuck's sake!" Lok ground out, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle away. This did nothing to impress Eeth.

"You will not curse, nor will you try to order me around," he barked. His third swat caught the undercurve of Lok's bottom and had the boy briefly drum his toes on the floor. Eeth was silent for a moment, focussing on settling into a rhythm. And then, he started to lecture. That was fairly uncharacteristic; normally, he focussed on dealing out a memorable spanking and did the talking afterwards. But in this case, he really thought there were a few things that Lok needed to learn, and since he had not proved to be very receptive before, maybe being in this position would finally make him listen.

"No amount of unhappiness, frustration or annoyance gives you the right to talk back to me, interrupt me or give me cheek," he informed Lok while meting out slow, hard swats at a steady pace. "When I tell you to lose the attitude, I mean it. When you find it impossible to deal with your negative emotions, you ask for help. You do not take it out on me. Am. I. Making. Myself. Clear?"

He punctuated these last words with particularly enthusiastic swats to the tops of Lok's thighs.

"Owwwww!" Lok howled in reply, kicking and thrashing around on Eeth's lap. He did not reply to Eeth's question, though, although he was definitely not beyond listening or expressing his acceptance.

"Not the answer I was looking for," Eeth said brusquely and continued to devote his attention to Lok's thighs. "The defiance stops here. I expect you to answer my questions respectfully. You certainly have no right to walk out on me. I will not tolerate any of that nonsense, and in the future, I will be a lot quicker to provide you with consequences than I have been today. Am I getting through to you at all?"

He moved the swats back to the undercurve of Lok's bottom, but he'd doubt that his padawan would appreciate the difference. The whole area was turning a dark red, and Lok was obviously fighting back tears.

"Y-yes, master," he choked out. "S-sorry. P-please stop."

Eeth sensed that the apology was entirely insincere; a mere strategy on Lok's part to stop the spanking and continue nursing his resentment. Besides, he was not in the habit of stopping a spanking just because his padawan asked him to.

"No, definitely not," he said calmly and continued at the same, steady pace. Lok tried to tough it out for a while longer, but finally started to yelp, to yell and finally to wail. And still, Eeth did not stop although his right arms was feeling the exertion by now. It was probably the hardest and longest handspanking he had ever dealt out, and Lok seemed to agree, judging from his reaction. Only when the boy was reduced to lying limply across his lap and sobbing did Eeth decide that enough was enough. If this did not convince Lok that pulling an attitude was not in his best interest, then Eeth had no idea what would. He was under no illusion that a spanking would magically cure all kinds of deeper, underlying issues, but right now, for the duration of this mission, he was more than happy to settle for compliance and respectful behaviour.

He lightly rubbed Lok's back without speaking. It took fairly long for the crying to subside, but then, it had been a fairly long spanking. Finally, Lok drew a deep, shuddering breath, wiped across his face with his sleeve and pushed himself up, wincing.

"What did you have to whale on me like that for?" he asked, but it did not sound all that reproachful. Mostly, it sounded weary.

Eeth raised his eyebrows. He produced a handkerchief from his pocket, handed it to Lok and said: "As far as I remember, I was rather explicit about the reasons for this spanking. Need I really answer this question?"

Lok blow his nose and sighed. "No," he conceded, his voice hoarse from crying. "I'm sorry. I know I was being a pain in the ass."

"So you were," said Eeth solemnly. "Any idea why?"

Lok shook his head mutely.

"Then we will meditate on it tonight," said Eeth. "And I expect your best effort. As for the rest of this mission, whether you will like it or not, you _will_ behave because I will not tolerate anything else. We simply cannot afford needless diversions. Is that clear?"

Lok nodded. "Yes, master," he said quietly. He gingerly reached down to pull up his pants, but before he did, he have Eeth a questioning look. Eeth nodded at him to proceed. Lok did so, but very slowly and cautiously; Eeth had not gone easy on him.

As he turned to leave, Eeth put a hand on his shoulder.

"Lok?" he said.

Lok glanced back at him. "Yes?" he asked politely.

"Come here," said Eeth gently and pulled him into a hug. For a second, it felt as if Lok was resisting the embrace, but then he sank into it and clung to his master with all his might.

Somewhere from the galley, they heard Lakhri yell that dinner was ready; but that could wait.


	15. Chapter 15: Lok

The sound of an explosion could be heard from afar, even through the thick walls of the spaceship. It was the third one this afternoon.

„This sucks," said Lok fervently, banging his data pad onto the table in frustration. He added plaintively: „I want my master."

„Well, I want ice cream for dessert," said Lakhri wryly. "Tough luck for both of us, I guess."

"I don't care about ice cream, I don't want my master killed!" Lok snapped.

Lakhri raised his eyebrows. "May I remind you that I have a padawan out there?" he asked. "Do you think I want him killed any more than you want Eeth killed? But since there's nothing any of us can do for them right now, you might as well end the pity party and do some school work."

"I'm not having a pity party!" said Lok indignantly.

"Yes, you are," Lakhri said very firmly. "Stop it and finish your maths. We can have a workout when you're done."

Lok groaned. Right now, he hated his life. This was only the second day after their arrival, but it had been apparent from the outset that the situation was far worse than the Mahauan government had let on. The rebels had used the hostage-taking to their advantage and taken over large parts of the city, there was open fighting in the streets, and by the time Eeth and Flynt had last called, this morning, they had not even managed to get the rebels and the government to join each other at the same table. Apparently, they were now trying to lead separate talks with each of the factions while the situation of the hostages was deteriorating and the rebels were threatening to blow up the parliament building, with all the hostages inside, unless the government deployed all its troops from the capital. Under the circumstances, Lok found it hard to focus, and he told Lakhri as much.

"I just have a bad feeling about this!" he said morosely, reiterating the first statement he had made after Eeth and Flynt had left the ship. At the time, Lakhri had remained silent, and Lok thought for a moment he would now remain silent as well. However, after a drawn-out pause, Lakhri admitted: "So do I. I should probably be lecturing you not to focus on your anxieties, but that would be blatantly hypocritical. Something's going to happen, and I don't think it will be something good. But like I've told you, there's nothing we can do to prevent it. We are not part of the mission team, and more importantly, we have specific orders to stay put or, if the worst comes to the worst, make a getaway. So we are just going to have to sit here, wait and hope that Eeth will be competent to handle whatever happens. If it's any consolation to you, in my experience Eeth is competent to handle _anything_."  
"Well, in _my_ experience," Lok said quietly, " _anyone_ can get killed in the course of a mission. Even the most competent of Jedi."

"Anyone can get killed any time, Lok," Lakhri said very gently. "What happened to your master might even have happened if he had stayed at the Temple. If you keep thinking along these lines, how can you go on living?"

Lok sighed. He needed to go on living, he knew that; that had been his former master's wish, and really, he himself was long past the point where he would have preferred to be dead.

He looked at Lakhri's kindly face and the laughter lines around his brown eyes and thought fleetingly of a warning Flynt had given him shortly before their arrival: not to mess with his master because, for all his sense of humour, he could dish out one hell of an ass-kicking. Lok wondered whether that was true. So far, Lakhri had been nothing but gentle and understanding.

With another sigh, he took up his data pad.

"Okay, I'll finish my maths," he said softly. "Thanks, Lakhri."

"You're welcome," said Lakhri solemnly.

Lok had to concede that lightsaber practice with Lakhri was fun; it would have been even more fun if he didn't miss his master so much. Lakhri was a lot more easy-going than Eeth and much less intent on torturing Lok with tedious details. He did pay attention to detail, but managed to build his advice into their sparring match in a way that was not particularly bothersome. Lok suspected that Lakhri was actively trying to make this as enjoyable as he possibly could, and he was grateful for it. He could not help but feel that Flynt's warning had been a bit over the top. Lakhri was really the best babysitter he could have ended up with.

Eeth called in briefly while they were preparing dinner. They had had some fresh food delivered from a store in the city, which was something. Lakhri wasn't much of a cook, or so he said himself, but obviously Eeth had taught him the basics; enough to throw together a decent dinner.

"How are things going?" Lakhri asked.

"Not good," replied Eeth curtly. "There has been no progress whatsoever so far. We are going to have talks with the rebel leaders now. They refused to leave the parliament building, though, so we will have to go in there."

Lok frowned. "Is that safe?" he asked.

"No," said Eeth laconically. "I know that this is not the answer you were hoping to hear, but nothing about this mission is safe. Flynt and I will be on our guard. At the very least, the trip to parliament will offer us a chance to see how the hostages are faring."

"When are you leaving?" asked Lakhri.

"In a moment," said Eeth. Somebody said something behind him, and he turned briefly. "Right now, in fact," he corrected himself. "Sorry, I meant to let Flynt talk to you, but there is no time. I will call you later."

He terminated the call abruptly.

Lok and Lakhri looked at each other.

"I don't like this," said Lok fervently.

"Neither do I," said Lakhri quietly. "But there's still nothing any of us can do. C'mon, you can help me peel these tubers."

They had just sat down to have dinner when Lakhri suddenly stiffened.

"Fuck," he said, which had Lok know instantly that something was wrong because he had never heard Lakhri curse before.

"What is it?" he asked urgently.

"Something's wrong with Flynt," said Lakhri, jumping up. "He's in distress – I can't communicate with him clearly through our bond, but there's some kind of fight going on, I think – oh, FUCK, he lost consciousness!"

He ran to the cockpit, with Lok following suit, and tried to establish a comm connection with Eeth.

"The recipient's comlink has been deactivated," said a cool female voice. Lakhri swore and banged the comm panel with his fist.

"We need to do something," said Lok, turning and storming towards the hatch. His bond with Eeth was by far not strong enough yet to allow for any sort of meaningful communication at a distance. It just gave him a vague sense of intense and focussed activity, but that was all he could make out. However, Eeth and Flynt had made their way to parliament together, and they had clearly got into a fight that had rendered Flynt unconscious. It was obvious that they needed help.

"Stop," barked Lakhri who was coming after him; Lok had never heard him speak in such an authoritative tone. "We are not going to run out there against our clear orders without even knowing what's going on."

Lok paused, but only for a fraction of a second. His master was in some kind of danger, he was certain of that; he _had_ to do something.

"Well, I'm going anyway," he snapped. "D'you think I'm going to stay put while my master and your padawan are in danger?"

He strode towards the hatch, pointedly ignoring a second stern order to stop. But just as he reached out to slam the door panel, he froze. He found himself completely, utterly unable to move.

"I'm sorry to have to do that," Lakhri said behind him, very firmly, "but you leave me no choice. We have absolutely no use for this kind of impulsive behaviour. It's my padawan who's out there, unconscious, and yet you don't see me rushing to his rescue without knowing what's going on and whether Eeth wants or even needs me. We are going to stay put, both of us."

Lok tried to break free of the Force hold that rendered him motionless, but it was impossible. He was flabbergasted. True, his former master had used the Force to restrain him during a few of the more memorable punishments he had dealt out. It had been like moving through quicksand, making it difficult to break the restraint and effectively enabling him to maintain his position, but it had been nothing like what he was experiencing now. He knew that some of the most experienced crèche masters could use the Force to immobilise children who were out of control, but these were children who had not yet been trained in Force control, and yet, not many Jedi could reliably restrain them. Lok suddenly remembered how Eeth had told him that Lakhri was very accomplished at Force control techniques, but he had obviously not taken that hint seriously enough. He was starting to realise that he had completely underestimated the man; he had subconsciously presumed to be both stronger and faster than Lakhri, seeing as he was one head taller already. That had clearly been a mistake.

Lok stood, arm outstretched towards the door panel, in what was fast becoming a very uncomfortable position, but he had no way of expressing that feeling. Nor could he see what Lakhri was up to. It was unnerving and especially irksome in light of the circumstances; he wanted to get out of here and _do_ something! And he couldn't for the life of him fathom why Lakhri did not feel the same way. After all, it was his padawan to whom, presumably, something had happened.

After what felt like half an eternity, but was probably more a minute or two, he heard Lakhri's voice saying: "I'm going to release you now. You're going to put down your arm, take a step back and take a deep breath. And then I'm going to explain to you why following orders is important. Whether I do the explaining with or without my belt depends entirely on you, so you'd better pull yourself together."

Ouch. So he truly had underestimated Lakhri. He might have guessed so; after all, the man had been Eeth's apprentice. Lok tried to move and realised that he could. For a split-second, he considered just going along with opening the hatch, but his chances of pulling that off were slim, he reckoned. Apparently, besides his other talents, Lakhri was good at Force-enhanced running which Lok had only just started to learn.

Scowling, Lok withdrew his hand and turned on Lakhri. Unfortunately, the man did not seem to be intimidated by his glare. "Right," he said in a sterner tone than Lok had ever heard from the man. "I totally understand why you did this. The mission team is in danger, so you wanted to run to the rescue. Which is exactly why we don't entrust missions to thirteen-year-old padawans. Now–"

Before he could continue, however, the comm unit beeped. Lok and Lakhri looked at each other for a fraction of a second, then simultaneously bolted towards the cockpit.


	16. Chapter 16: Lok

The blue holograph of Eeth flickered alive. He looked dishevelled; this startled Lok who suddenly realised that he had never ever seen Eeth look dishevelled.

"We fell into a trap," Eeth said, speaking in fast, clipped tones. "The only thing the rebels ever wanted us for is as hostages. They were prepared for our weapons; they came at us from everywhere and closed in so fast that we did not have room to pull our sabers. By the time I had Force-pushed enough of them away, they had taken out Flynt. I had the choice between making a getaway or letting them capture me. For the sake of saving both our lives, I opted for escaping. We need to find Flynt and get out of here. And in order to find Flynt, I need you. I know it is against our mission orders, but I do not see any other way. You share a bond with him, I do not."

"Alright, but what about Lok?" asked Lakhri.

Eeth turned to face Lok.

"Padawan," he said very seriously. "I need Lakhri. And therefore, I need to be able to rely on you. Will you promise me to stay on the ship until one of us returns, no matter what?"

Lok stared at Eeth. What could he say to that? He nodded mutely, his heart beating painfully in his chest.

"You are not to come after us," said Eeth emphatically. "Under any circumstances. Is that entirely clear?"

" _Yes_ , master," said Lok, feeling a little offended that Eeth thought this needed extra mentioning. Lakhri raised his eyebrows at him, which reminded Lok of the way he had acted just a moment earlier. His cheeks colored slightly, but he remained silent; he merely bowed to his master who gave Lakhri a few hurried instructions on where to meet him and then ended the call.

Less than five minutes later, Lok was on his own, knowing that his master, Lakhri and Flynt were out there, risking their lives. And hard as it was, he was determined to show that he could cope. He could obey his orders, even though he flinched violently with every explosion - they seemed to become more and more frequent. He _would_ stay on the ship, no matter what. And they would return, Eeth would see to that.

An hour later, nothing had happened, and it was tearing at his nerves. Through their bond, he had a vague sense of frantic activity, but nothing specific; not that he could have made it out if there was. It was frustrating when he thought of how far he had come with Jerad; they had just started to be able to _talk_ to each other through their bond!

Then another explosion occurred, and this time it was so close that Lok had to cover his ears and the entire ship was shaking. There were a few thuds, as if chunks of plaster were falling onto the hull. Lok's breathing quickened, and he pulled out his com. He really needed to know what was going on, he told himself; and if, on the occasion, he found out that Eeth was fine, that was all the more welcome. Unfortunately, though, Eeth did not respond to his call. Nor did Lakhri or Flynt (not that he had expected the latter to be able to pick up his comm). Lok started to pace the ship nervously, trying to establish a connection every few minutes, but it was to no avail. They might simply have switched off their comlinks; or they might be underground with no connection; or they might be in a fight, captured or dead? Well, Eeth was not dead, he would have felt that, but Lakhri or Flynt might be, for all he knew

An hour later, Lok's nerves were running ragged. He was sitting in the cockpit, staring out of the window that allowed him a view of the entirely deserted hangar, drumming his fingers on the console. His comlink was lying next to him; he was ready to grab it and answer as soon as it beeped. Only it didn't and he was starting to feel not only afraid, but also frustrated. What was taking them so long? Why wasn't anybody thinking of him, at least sending him a quick message? Did they think it was fun for him, sitting alone in this ship in a war-torn city, knowing his master was out there?

And then Lok suddenly sensed a surge of emotion through his bond with Eeth that came as close to anxiety as anything he had ever felt in his master. He frantically tried to call again, but there was no way to get through to anyone. Angrily, he flung the comlink into a corner, drew a deep breath and raised his shields. Jerad had taught him how to conceal himself. He was good at it; Eeth should really give him more credit for that, he thought fleetingly. If his master really needed help, he would provide it. If not, he could always return to the ship, undetected, and there would be no harm done. He would not remain passive while the rest of the team was in mortal danger; he could not. Surely Eeth would understand that. Or better yet, Eeth wouldn't need to know. Lok could just check out the situation briefly and, once he had a clearer idea what was going on, return to the ship before anyone was the wiser.

Lok was indeed very good at using the Force to conceal his presence. It was a gift he had, and Jerad's thorough training had helped him make the most of it. He was also fairly good at shielding himself, and given the still rudimentary nature of the bond between him and Eeth, he hoped that would be sufficient to keep Eeth from noticing his absence from the ship.

The hangar was deserted, but there seemed to be fighting in the main hall of the spaceport. Lok tried to keep away from it and finally found a side entrance that allowed him to slip out onto the streets undetected. The city was mainly built of brick houses, many of which showed signs of recent damage. The streets were deserted, but every now and then speeders with armed fighters were racing through. Lok quickly hid in entrances or behind trash cans when they did; he knew that his ability to conceal his presence was not infallible and thought it better to be cautious. He tried to follow his sense of where Eeth was, but it was slow going and, unfortunately, it seemed to lead him right into the thick of things, towards the epicenter of the frequent explosions from where thick columns of smoke were rising. Once, he had to make a detour because a whole street was burning. He briefly pondered returning to the ship, but he had made it thus far – plus, he still could not reach Eeth.

About an hour after he had left the ship, he thought he was approaching the border to the rebel-controlled sector; he found it harder and harder to avoid people because there were fighters everywhere, retreating or rushing into battle. He also found that it was getting ever more difficult to maintain his concealment and keep his shields raised. He had never had to do this for such a long period of time, and never under such dangerous circumstances either.

That must be the parliament building, right ahead of them, he thought as he emerged from an alleyway onto a large square, pressing his back against the wall. He recognised it from the pictures although it now looked decidedly worse for the wear. He could sense that Eeth was near, though, either in the parliament building itself or somewhere below it. Unfortunately, in order to get there, he needed to get across the square, which was full of rebel soldiers who had raised barricades from one side of the square to the other. There was some kind of impromptu checkpoint in the middle. Lok pondered his chances. They did not know he was here, and that was a huge advantage. Besides, even if his shields lapsed for a moment, he could probably mind-whammy these people. Most species, with very few exceptions, were susceptible to Force persuasion. It was either that, or search for another way in which was unlikely to be any less tightly controlled, or return to the ship and make this whole venture pointless. Lok drew a deep breath and, drawing on the Force as much as he possibly could, started to creep across the square towards the checkpoint.


	17. Chapter 17: Lok

Things went reasonably well at first. Nobody seemed to notice Lok as he made his way towards the checkpoint. He did not go straight for the opening, but edged towards the barricades and then slowly and cautiously made his way along them. After all, if he made a noise, people would be able to hear him, so he had to avoid that. The opening was about five metres wide, enough to allow for the passing of vehicles. It was manned by a few Awaré (which, as far as Lok remembered, was what the rebels were called), but there was enough space between them to pass through. Lok drew a deep breath and approached the gap.

And then, suddenly, when he was almost at the other side, he heard shouting, and a shell detonated behind him. He was thrown forward, falling onto his knees. Almost instantly, dozens of heavily armed Awaré soldiers came rushing up towards the barricade. Lok jumped up and to the side in an effort to avoid them, but one of them bumped against him, almost sending him flying. The Awaré stopped in confusion and shouted something, whereupon others turned around. Lok backed up in fear, and that was when his shields slipped. With a jolt of panic, he realised that everyone could see him now; they were all looking at him. Without further thought, he backed away through the gap to where he had come from, then turned and ran. Immediately, the soldiers were in hot pursuit. They were taller and faster than he was; there was only one option, and that was to use Force-enhanced speed, which he had been trained to do, but not cleared to do on his own by a long shot. But there was nothing for it; either that or be caught (and he thanked his lucky stars that the rebels did not seem to be bent on shooting him, but rather aimed at capturing him alive!). He took off across the square towards one of the streets that opened onto it, completely at random, so fast that he was practically a blur. That confused them, but they did not abandon their pursuit. He could now hear the sound of hoverbikes behind him and accelerated. At this speed, he could only just manage to round the next corner, which was where he smashed into an obstacle at full, Force-enhanced speed and blacked out.

He came to again almost immediately. His head was pounding, his vision was blurred, but his hearing was absolutely intact, and what he heard were approaching hoverbikes and loud voices. He tried to push himself into an upright position, but that nearly made him black out again. Panicking, he tried to crawl behind the burned-out vehicle into which he had crashed, but he was too slow. Any moment, he was going to be captured.

Suddenly, a figure loomed over him; a large Awaré, a gun slung over her shoulder. She grabbed him under the armpits and dragged him towards a doorway. He opened his mouth to shout, but she clamped her hand across it, pulled him inside and closed the door. A moment later, hoverbikes were speeding past and soldiers came running behind them.

Lok looked at the women in confusion. It was dawning on him that she had just rescued him from capture, but why? He could not think clearly, his head was hurting too much; and suddenly, he was feeling sick. When the Awaré women loosened her hold on him, he fell to his knees, doubled over and started vomiting. And then he blacked out again.

When Lok came to, he found himself in the dark. For a moment he thought that his vision had been impaired by the injury; but then he realised that it was, indeed, night. He could make out indistinct shapes by the vague light that was coming in through a few gaps in a sealed window. He was lying on some kind of bedstead. The Awaré was nowhere to be seen. He tentatively raised his hand towards his head, which still hurt, but not as badly as before. It had been bandaged; obviously, his saviour meant him well, why ever that was. He tried to sit up. It still made his head hurt and his surroundings spin, but it was not entirely unfeasible. Before he could try to stand, however, a door opened and the Awaré woman came back in, carrying a small torch. Lok shielded his eyes against the light and she immediately averted the beam.

"Do - you - understand - me?" she said in very slow Bocce, in a low voice.

To his own surprise, Lok did; but then, the question had been a simple one.

"Y-yes," he said uncertainly, and added: "A little." And since it seemed that he had actually started communicating in Bocce, he tried to phrase the question that was really on his mind: "You - why?" He did not know any of the vocabulary needed to say this properly, but the woman seemed to understand. She looked at him and then answered something that he only half-understood although she spoke very slowly, but it seemed to involve the fact that he was a "child" and that someone – possibly the other Awaré soldiers – did "bad things". That suddenly reminded him of Flynt, and that, in turn, of his master. There was no way that Eeth could not have noticed that something had happened to him. He had no idea how long he had been out, but judging from how dark it was, it had been a couple of hours at least. Fuck.

He was still internally debating whether it was a good idea to reach out for his master through their bond when the Awaré women suddenly grabbed him under the armpits and helped him up. She said something, and he thought he recognised the word "ship".

"Ship?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes," she said. As soon as she let go of him, however, he started to sway. She quickly steadied him, pocketed her torch and without further ado flung him across her shoulder.

"Hey!" he protested, but she shushed him and made for the door.

The next half hour was a blur. They went down to the basement, through a maze of tunnels, and emerged into another basement from where the women, who seemed indefatigable, carried him upstairs and into a dark and deserted alleyway. She obviously knew every nook and cranny of this city; she made her way through passages, backyards, even across a set of roofs, all that with Lok on her back. Several times, Lok could feel Eeth probing for him; however, he was too exhausted to communicate through their bond, and his Force control seemed fuzzy. At least Eeth was alive, though, he thought vaguely; but most of his attention was focussed on the attempt not to throw up while he was bumped along.

Suddenly, the woman hissed and backed into a doorway; and at the same time, Lok realised that Eeth was close, very close, just around the corner.

"Master!" he called, completely forgetting himself.

"Do - you - know - him?" asked the women in a whisper in her low, clear Bocce.

"Yes," said Lok, "yes!"

"Good," she said. Then she sat him down, gave him a brief pat on the head and climbed up the roof, disappearing from sight. Lok looked after her in confusion. And then, Eeth was there.

"Padawan," he said urgently, kneeling down in front of Lok. "Are you hurt? Can you walk?"

"Yes, and I don't think so," replied Lok, resisting the urge to lean into his master and start crying. "I feel dizzy. Is Flynt alive? Where's–"

"We have no time for this," Eeth cut him short. "We need to get out of here. The rebels have taken over the spaceport, Lakhri could only just get our ship out before they did."

He pulled out his comlink.

"I've got him," he said in fast, clipped tones. "I'll get him to the park two blocks down. That's still just outside rebel control. Collect us there and then take us to hyperspace as fast as you can."

For the second time that night, Lok found himself hoisted across someone's shoulder and rushed away; it seemed almost unreal. The streets were completely dark, but Eeth found his way nonetheless, and then they were among trees and there was the ship, touching down upon a lawn. The ramp opened, Eeth carried him up, and even before the ramp had closed completely, the ship had taken off again.

"You can set me down now," said Lok groggily as Eeth carried him along the corridor.

Eeth did not reply; he merely pushed open the door to their cabin and lowered Lon onto his bed. Lok was suddenly very grateful for that; he still felt dizzy and disoriented.

"Lie down," said Eeth. "I am going to give you a checkover. Then I need to look after Flynt, who is in a bad state. He will live, but the rebels did not treat him kindly."

Lok was suddenly immensely grateful to his anonymous rescuer for having saved him from a similar fate. He was also gradually becoming aware of a nagging feeling of guilt inside his guts.

"Master, I–" he started, but Eeth cut him short.

"Not now," he said curtly. "Your health, and Flynt's, are more important. Believe me, we will discuss your unauthorised outing at length, but now is not the time. Lie down and be still."

Lok sighed and obeyed. As he lay back and closed his eyes, the ship's vibrations changed; they had entered hyperspace. He was safe. Everyone was safe. And despite the huge amount of trouble that he was in, this was all that mattered right now.


	18. Chapter 18: Eeth

Eeth ran a scanner across Lok to assess his medical condition, then repeated the process through the Force. His padawan had sustained a concussion, and not a light one. There were also a lot of bruises, but fortunately no fractures.

"How exactly did these injuries happen?" he asked Lok rather brusquely while pocketing the scanner.

"I, err, ran into something," Lok said awkwardly, opening his eyes to look at Eeth.

"You ran into something," Eeth repeated in a tone of polite incredulity.

Lok groaned. "Okay, well, I used Force-enhanced running and smashed head-first into a speeder wreck," he admitted in a slightly aggravated tone of voice. "It was the only way to escape capture. Happy?"

"Not particularly, no," replied Eeth coolly, and indeed, he was not.

He unwrapped the bandage around Lok's forehead and found an impressive laceration; Lok must have hit a sharp metal edge of some kind. The bandage had been tight enough to effectively stop the bleeding; but in order to prevent scarring, the wound would have needed immediate stitching. As it was, it would still need stitching, but this would have to wait until after Flynt had been cared for.

"Who treated your wound?" Eeth asked as he wrapped a fresh piece of bandage around Lok's forehead.

"An Awaré soldier who kind of rescued me and hid me from the others," Lok replied. "I'm not exactly sure who she was but we tried to talk in Bocce and from what I understood, she saw that I was a youngling and didn't want the rebels to do bad stuff to me. She brought me to where you found me."

Eeth nodded. The situation on Mahau had escalated to a point where many, both on the government's and on the rebels' side, were uncertain about their loyalties and unhappy with their leadership's decisions. Lok had apparently been lucky enough to benefit from this.

"Just for your information," he told Lok curtly while rising from his kneeling position next to the boy's bunk, "you have a serious concussion, you obviously had no chance to give your brain the kind of rest it would have needed, and you are very lucky that your brain has not sustained any internal swelling or bleeding because without access to a professional healers' ward, that might very well have turned out fatal. Now, as from this moment, you are on strict bedrest. You will not get up under any circumstances, not even to use the toilet; Lakhri or I will assist you with that. I will perform some Force-aided healing after I have checked on Flynt, but my capacities are limited. I will probably not be able to do more than ensure that your condition does not worsen until we have reached Coruscant and the healers can look after you. Can I rely on you to stay put or do I need to chain you to your bed?"

The expression on his face was rather grim as he asked that. Eeth was as close to being angry as he had been in a long time. And Lok seemed to realise it, for he looked as if he would have preferred to hide under his bed.

"I'll stay in bed," he said in a very small voice.

Eeth's heart softened a tiny little bit at seeing his padawan looking so forlorn.

"Padawan," he said quietly, "you risked your life out there for no good reason. Just try to imagine what I felt like when Lakhri and I were under fire from all sides, trying to rescue Flynt from the Awaré stronghold in the caverns under the old city, and suddenly I sensed that something was wrong with you – with no immediate chance for me to intervene. I was afraid, padawan. Very much so."

Lok swallowed.

"I'm sorry, master," he brought out. "I … I meant to make sure you are safe. It just went terribly wrong."

Eeth shook his head. He knew he was being heartless, but he had little tolerance for attempts to shift personal responsibility to circumstances beyond one's control, and that was what Lok was doing right now.

"No, padawan," he said sternly. "It did not just 'go wrong.' You made a wrong decision. And we are going to talk about why that was and how it went wrong; I will want to hear the whole story. Not now, though. You need to rest. Close your eyes and try to sleep. I will be back with you shortly."

Eeth knew that he would have to get his feelings under control. Fear leads to anger… He had heard that throughout his life, and that was exactly what was happening here. He had been afraid for his padawan; how could he not have been when Lok had been in very real danger? However, he could not allow himself to be continue being angry with Lok. Displeased, yes. Unhappy with the decision that Lok had made, yes. Angry, no. Hopefully, there would be an opportunity to meditate and deal with his emotions soon. Right now, however, he needed to look after Flynt because he had not lied: Flynt was in a bad state.

As he reached the door to Flynt's room, he ran into Lakhri who was coming from the cockpit, looking worried.

"He is going to be alright, Lakhri," Eeth said gently. "Badly injured, but nothing the healers will not be able to fix."

Lakhri nodded, but the worried look did not disappear from his face as he knelt down next to his padawan. They had sedated Flynt who was sporting several cracked ribs, among other injuries, the pain of which would have driven him crazy. There was some internal bleeding, too. Fortunately, it was not much, but Eeth set about to stilling it as best he could. He also needed to put a splint on Flynt's leg and properly stitch the wound in his arm. Lakhri assisted him. As he was fond of pointing out, he was rubbish at healing, but he knew how to treat wounds.

"How's Lok?" Lakhri asked as they worked.

"He's god a bad concussion," Eeth replied woodenly. "It would have needed immediate treatment and rest, but of course, that did not happen. He is lucky that it did not turn out to be life-threatening. Apparently, a stray rebel soldier with a heart for children found him, treated his wound, hid him from the rebel forces and brought him to safety. All that after he had sustained his injuries by smashing into a speeder wreck at Force-enhanced speed."

Lakhri flinched. "Poor kid," he said sympathetically.

Eeth snorted. "The poor kid could have avoided all that if he had not left the ship against explicit orders," he pointed out grimly.

"Yeah, well, of course he was stupid," said Lakhri, "and impulsive and disobedient and all, but he's still a kid who got badly hurt."

Eeth was silent for a moment. Then he said: "You are right, of course. I am angrier than I ought to be. I was afraid for him."

"I know," said Lakhri gently. "You are very protective of him, and that's good. And you have every right to be unhappy with his blatant disobedience and recklessness. But save your wrath until after he's recovered, alright? Nothing he did is unforgivable."

"Of course not," said Eeth a tad impatiently. "I know that."

"I know that you know it," replied Lakhri calmly, "but does Lok?"

Eeth paused. "Maybe not," he finally conceded. "I will talk to him. Thank you, Lakhri."

"You're welcome," said Lakhri with a smile.

An hour later, Eeth made his way to Lok's room. The boy was asleep, looking pale and drawn and as if he had recently cried. Eeth's heart suddenly went out to him. He knelt next to Lok, rested a gentle hand on his head and established a Force-link. There was relatively little he could do about the concussion, not being a trained healer, but he could ease the pain a little and diminish the bruising. Lok slept through this, but there was no way he would be able to sleep through the stitching, nor should that wait much longer.

Eeth gently shook Lok's shoulder. His padawan's eyelids fluttered; he slowly stirred awake.

"Lok," said Eeth softly. "I'm sorry to have to wake you up; I need to stitch up your wound. I will give you an local anaesthetic. You will not feel much."

"Okay," said Lok sleepily. It did not escape Eeth's notice that he avoided looking at Eeth.

"Padawan," said Eeth softly. "I am not angry any more. And I should not have been in the first place. I am sorry if that caused you pain."

Lok looked at him warily, apparently unsure what to make of this.

"Well, I messed up," he said defensively. "Of course you would be angry."

Eeth shook his head. "Disapproving of your decisions is not the same thing as being angry at you for frightening me," he said. "We will talk about your decisions later, but first and foremost you need get well again. Please believe me that this is what matters most to me."

While he talked, he had started unwrapping the bandage and now pressed a hypospray against Lok's forehead. Without further ado, he started cleaning the wound and stitching it shut. Lok flinched at first, but then he tried to relax and keep still.

"Thank you, master," he whispered when Eeth was done and set to covering the wound with a fresh bandage.

Eeth nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I am just glad that you are alive," he said quietly. And it was heartfelt.

Keeping Lok in his bed throughout the trip was not as much of an ordeal as Eeth had feared since the boy slept most of the time, which was all for the best. He did not fight the use of the bedpan much either. While he refused to eat, Eeth managed to convince him to drink; in his light moments, they talked a little so that by the end of their trip, Eeth had a fairly clear idea of what had happened to him. He kept any comments he might have to himself, though, although he could not quite refrain from giving Lok dark looks upon hearing about the danger he had exposed himself to. During the long intervals in which Lok slept, he looked after Flynt, prepared the mission report and meditated a lot. By the time they reached Coruscant, he was not angry at Lok any longer, but all the more determined to put a stop to the kind of recklessness and disregard of orders that his padawan had displayed – once Lok was well enough to allow for such measures, that was.

When their ship touched down in the Temple's hangar, they were already expected by a team of healers. Flynt, who was still in a half-daze, was immediately hurried away with Lakhri following. Then it was Lok's turn; he was awake and more alert than he had been during most of the past days.

"I could walk," he offered to the Iktotchi healer who was preparing to transfer him to a hoverstretcher.

The healer just snorted. "You," he said, "are not going to take a single step before you have been given explicit permission. We can fix you up fast enough, but for that to happen, we need your brain to be rested."

Lok sighed and lay back.

"You sound as if you are feeling a little better," Eeth remarked as he walked behind the hoverstretcher.

"I am," said Lok. "I don't feel as dizzy any longer, nor as tired. Well, I slept more than enough, I guess."

"Which is good," said the healer approvingly. "Making you rest was really the best thing your master could have done. Everything else, we can take care of."

And that was what the healers did.


	19. Chapter 19: Eeth

By the next morning, and after a long string of Force-healing sessions, Lok was declared fully restored and ready to go home. Eeth had stayed with him during most of the time. He had had to leave to see the Council about their mission at one point, and he had brought their bags to their quarters, unpacked and done the laundry during one of Lok's healing sessions, but apart from that, he had sat next to Lok's bed and kept him company; during the night, the healers had put up a second bed for him. There had not been much opportunity to talk, nor had Eeth felt particularly talkative. He never was when he had to report a failed mission. Of course, he was not to blame for this mission's failure and the Council had told him as much, but it still did not sit well with him.

"How's Flynt?" asked Lok as they made their way to the exit. "You said he was badly hurt. Will he recover fully?"

"Yes," replied Eeth. "He is still submerged in a bacta tank and will be for another day or two. This is sometimes necessary in cases of multiple serious injuries. The Awaré did not set out to intentionally hurt him, but nor did they make much of an effort to avoid it. Since they overwhelmed us by brute force and since they are strong enough to effortlessly break human bones, Flynt suffered quite a bit of damage. None of it will be lasting, though. The healers are sure of it."

"Good," said Lok in obvious relief. He was silent for a moment, but then it broke out of him. "Master, did I… I dunno, I mean, when I left the ship and you noticed, did that - interrupt your rescue mission? Were you distracted or did it, like, delay you? Because I really honestly did not mean for that to happen."

Eeth gazed down on him, brows furrowed.

"Do not give me the line about not meaning for it to happen," he said severely. "You made the decision to disregard your explicit orders and break your promise to me, padawan. As such, whether you meant for any of the consequences to happen or not is irrelevant; you will still have to live with bearing the full responsibility. As for your question: I noticed your injury when we were busy fighting our way out of the subterranean rebel stronghold. Of course it distracted me. Since there was nothing I could do about it at that moment, however, I simply focussed on what I had to do which was fighting off the Awaré so we could get Flynt to the ship. Thus, if you want to know whether you contributed to Flynt's condition, the answer is probably no. You merely caused me considerable worry. It took us quite a while to get Flynt to the ship, and even longer to track you down since you, or rather, the woman carrying you, were moving and you had _not_ taken your comlink. Lakhri found it in a corner of the galley. May I ask why you left it there?"

Lok's cheeks coloured slightly. "I, uh, I flung it there in a fit of temper when I couldn't reach you," he admitted. "You stayed away longer than I'd thought, and what I sensed from you worried me. And then you simply would not answer my calls."

"Of course I could not answer your calls," Eeth said impatiently because this was really among the silliest things he had ever heard from one of his padawans. "First we had to make our way into the Awaré headquarters undetected and then we had to fight our way out of it. Did you honestly think I had switched off my comlink just to spite you?"

"No, of course not," said Lok lamely. They had nearly reached their quarters and the rest of the way passed in silence. As soon as the doors had swished shut behind them, however, Eeth said resolutely: "Alright, padawan. Hang up your cloak, pull off your boots and sit down. We need to talk."

Lok sighed. "Yeah," he said unenthusiastically. "Like in, you need to lecture me. Can't we just skip that part?"

"No, we most certainly will _not_ skip that part," Eeth snapped, pointing a glare at Lok. He knew how fast the boy could develop an attitude and he did not want to encourage that in the slightest.

Lok groaned, but he complied with his orders. Sitting down in an armchair facing Eeth, he said in a tone of rather exaggerated contriteness: "Alright, so I disobeyed your orders to stay on the ship, I broke my promise to you, I put myself in danger and I jeopardised our mission. Does that about sum it up?"

"I am not interested in summing anything up," said Eeth in a dangerously low voice. "I said we were going to talk about it. At length. And since you are the one who is in trouble, you do not get to set the terms of this talk. Now kindly tell me why you thought it was a good idea to leave the ship."

Lok scowled. "Look, I _know_ it wasn't a good idea. Do you have to rub it in? OUCH!"

Eeth had had about enough of this backtalk. He pulled Lok up by his ear, bent him over the back of the adjacent armchair and – not having had a chance to restore his paddle to its customary place in his belt – brought his hand down onto his padawan's bottom, hard. He repeated this twice.

"I did not ask you what you think of your decision _now_ ," he snapped without letting up on Lok, "I asked why you thought it was a good idea at the time that you made the decision. Would you care to answer that question, or shall I continue?"

"Ouch! Alright!" yelped Lok. "Look, I didn't _mean_ to disobey! I waited, and I tried to call all of you, and I waited some more. But nobody answered my calls, nobody returned, and it was just driving me mad, not knowing what was going on and not being able to communicate with you. I could talk through our bond with Master Jerad, but I can't with you. So I was frustrated, I had no idea what was going on and how you were doing, and then I sensed this huge surge of anxiety through our bond – you know what I mean?"

Eeth understood immediately because for a moment there, he had really been afraid.

"That must have been when I saw Flynt in the cell where they held him, motionless and all covered in blood, and thought for a moment he was dead," he said, releasing his hold on Lok. "So, you sensed my momentary anxiety. And that caused you to do what, exactly?"

Lok slowly stood up, wincing. "Well, to go looking for you, obviously," he said defensively. "I'm good at concealing myself. You probably don't know that, we've hardly worked on it, but I honestly thought I could pull this off."

"Pull off what?" Eeth asked pointedly, the hint at Lok's hurt pride not escaping his notice; but he filed that away for later use. "And what precisely did you mean to do when you found me?"

"Well, how should I know?" exclaimed Lok. "I had no idea what I would find. You might have been captured for all I knew, and I thought I might be able help. If I had found you were alright, I would have returned to the ship right away."

"Ideally, without me finding out about your temporary absence?" Eeth asked, eyebrows raised.

Lok sighed. "Ideally, yes," he admitted. "And you needn't tell me I didn't think this through. But let's suppose you had really been captured. The Awaré rebels did take over the spaceport, after all. Wouldn't I have needed to make the choice between leaving the ship and being captured anyway?"

"Hypothetically, yes, but neither were we captured nor did you leave the ship because of the rebel attack on the spaceport, did you?" asked Eeth sternly.

"No, of course I didn't," said Lok sullenly. "I've already told you why I left the ship, didn't I? I'm sorry I can't give you any better reason than that."

"So it was an impulsive decision," Eeth said. "Just as impulsive as the decision to leave your comlink behind?"

Lok groaned. "I didn't even think of my comlink," he said. "Force, I was afraid for you!"

"Yes, and we both know that it is never a good idea to act on one's fears," Eeth replied and added, quite relentlessly: "It was clearly bad judgment on my part to allow you to come with me at all. So shortly after having lost your master, you would have had a hard time dealing with your fears. I blame myself for that; but that does not excuse your disobedience and reckless disregard for your own safety, of course. Not to speak of the fact that you dangerously delayed our getaway. No, you need not comment on that. So you left the ship, relying on your ability to hide your presence from others. Did it work?"

"Well, it brought me up to Parliament square and nearly through the barricades," Lok pointed out, and Eeth thought he looked quite smug at what he clearly perceived as a great accomplishment.

"Nearly?" he asked pointedly.

"Well, a shell detonated on the square and a squadron of Awaré disappeared out of nowhere," Lok elaborated. "I couldn't get out of the way fast enough, one of them bumped into me, and then they knew I was there and I panicked, and of course that brought my shields down."

"Which is one of the many reasons for which I would not have wanted you out in the streets of that city, let alone on the frontline, for any conceivable reason," Eeth said pointedly. "With a few more years of training, you will be able to sense impending dangers, you will not panic when caught up in them and your shields will certainly not slip. And when you have reached that point, I will consider taking you on missions that involve danger on the scale that this one did. Not before. Now. Your shields went down, they noticed you and that was why you thought Force-enhanced running was your best option?"

"It was my _only_ option," Lok said with emphasis. "Besides letting myself be captured, that is. And you don't seriously think that was the better option, do you?"

"As things turned out, no," said Eeth. "On the other hand, you collided headfirst with a speeder wreck, which could easily have killed you. And that would not have been the better option in any sense of the word. You have not been cleared for Force-enhanced running without supervision because you cannot reliably avoid such collisions yet. That is why I tried to protect you from getting into a situation where Force-enhanced running was your only option in the first place. Had you listened to me, there would have been no need for you to be injured."

Lok scowled. "Are you done making me feel as guilty as possible?" he asked darkly.

Eeth gave him a long, piercing look. "Just try to imagine for a moment, padawan," he said quietly and firmly, "what it was like for Lakhri and me, returning to the ship under heavy fire, with a seriously injured Flynt who was screaming in pain and urgently needed medical treatment, and me knowing that we might have made a fast getaway – if only you had remained where I told you to remain. So, instead of making that getaway and taking care of Flynt, I had to go looking for you, not knowing where you were and in what state I would find you in, and I was lucky you were mostly conscious since I had to rely on our bond, seeing as you had not taken your comlink. And Lakhri, instead of looking after his padawan, had to take the ship to safety and stand by waiting for my orders. Forgive me for not being amused. I think, under the circumstances, I am more than entitled to making you feel guilty."

Lok clearly did not know what to say to that; he looked at the floor. Eeth did not allow himself to pity him. He had not lied when he had said that he accepted responsibility for his own misjudgment in allowing Lok to accompany him; but that did not change anything about Lok's responsibility for his disobedience. Here was a lesson that almost all padawans needed to learn at some point.

"Look at me, padawan," Eeth ordered. Lok obeyed reluctantly. Eeth held his gaze and said: "Padawan, you need to understand that impulsive behaviour will never do you any good, whatever higher motive you think you are following. Acting on your emotions is unacceptable, always. You cannot allow your personal attachments to cloud your judgment, let alone prevent you from obeying your orders. And until you learn this, I will not be able to take you on critical missions."

"But master," said Lok in obvious dismay, "aren't we taught to follow the will of the Force? What if that conflicts with my orders?"

"You did _not_ follow the will of the Force," said Eeth sharply. "Yes, there might be very rare instances in which following your orders is not an option because of circumstances that those who gave the orders had not foreseen. This was not one of those cases. Nor do you possess the good judgment yet to distinguish between your own impulses and the will of the Force. Stop looking for excuses."

Lok flung up his hands. "Okay, so I messed up. I told you so from the outset. What more do you want to hear?"

"I do not want to hear anything," Eeth said firmly. "I want you to learn from this. And I will make very sure you take this lesson as seriously as you possibly can because decisions like the ones you made can very well prove fatal to yourself or others and I do not want that to happen. For a start, give me your saber."

Lok did not look happy about this order, but he gave the impression that he had expected this. He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and handed it to his master.

"How long?" he asked in resignation.

"A month," said Eeth matter-of-factly as he attached his padawan's saber to his own belt..

Lok gaped at him. "A _month_?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, a month," Eeth repeated with absolute determination. "That is what you get for disobeying your clear orders during a mission and needlessly risking your life. The next time, think of this and make better choices."

Lok looked flabbergasted. But his troubles were far from over.


	20. Chapter 20: Lok

Lok had had no idea that it was possible to feel as bad as he did now. Shocked though he was at losing his lightsaber for one month, the shame and guilt he felt were even stronger. He had never messed up so badly in his life; nor had he ever been in this much danger or, more importantly, in a situation where his actions had the potential to truly endanger others. Sure, he had always been taught that disobedience during a mission was a no-go, but so far this had always been a rather academic, mind-the-rules-or-you-will-be-punished kind of affair. This time, actual lives had been at stake, not only his own, but also Flynt's. The idea that he might have prevented Eeth and Lakhri from properly looking after Flynt was a lot more painful to Lok than the thought of his own death; like many teenagers, he could not really imagine himself dying.

"I will make better choices the next time," he promised Eeth in a subdued voice. "I'm sorry, master. Really."

"Good," said Eeth, his face unmoved. "You will be a lot sorrier before this is over, though. Go and fetch me the cane."

Lok had a sinking feeling in his stomach, but he could not honestly claim to be surprised. By now, he knew that Eeth always used the cane in serious cases of disobedience, and if anything was a serious case of disobedience, then this was. Besides, he had never seen Eeth as angry as he had been after having brought Lok back to the ship; that fact alone would have clued him in to the fact that some serious punishment was in his future. True, the anger had abated and by now, Eeth projected nothing more than sternness and determination through their bond, but that was more then enough to fill Lok with trepidation.

Reluctantly, but without uttering objections he dragged his feet to the cupboard that held Eeth's infamous collection of spanking implements and took out the cane. Eeth, in the meanwhile, had dragged out a chair from the dining table and beckoned him over.

"Bare your bottom and get over my lap," he ordered, accepting the cane and laying it onto the table behind himself.

Lok frowned. Surely Eeth could not cane him while he was over his lap? This probably meant he was in for a spanking before the actual caning, and that was something he did not at all look forward to. However, for once, he felt that he could hardly argue. If he had ever deserved a punishment, it was this one. And he was under no illusion that it was going to be a light punishment. Still, that did not mean he had to enjoy the prospect; it was with some reluctance that he pushed down his pants and underpants and bent over his master's lap. The position was awkward since Lok was fairly tall, but Eeth somehow always managed to keep him in the position that guaranteed utmost exposure. Today was no exception. Lok was pushed forward so much that his nose nearly touched the floor, and then his masters large and iron-hard hand crashed down onto his bottom without preliminaries.

"This is for your gross disobedience and for breaking your promise to me," Eeth informed him and let a second swat follow that had Lok flinch and bite back a yelp. "We will talk about your recklessness and disregard for your safety later."

That did not sound good. Jedi padawans had to handle dangerous weapons on a daily basis, and consequently Jedi masters tended to take a very dim view on any kind of behaviour that posed unnecessary risks to their charges' health or lives. Lok knew that, and if Eeth planned to punish him separately for this, his prospects were not good. He had no time to ponder this, however, because Eeth spanked so hard and fast that the pain in Lok's bottom soon made coherent thought a virtual impossibility.

Lok had, by now, learned that not all of Eeth's spankings were alike. None of them was ever mild in any sense of the word, but there were occasions on which he wanted to leave an impression, and then there were occasions on which he wanted to leave a strong impression. What he was doing now was in a league of its own; he obviously wanted to leave an impression that Lok would still remember on his deathbed, or so it seemed to the boy who was soon howling, kicking and begging for his master to stop. Eeth did not seem to care about Lok's pleas, however; he continued until Lok was lying limply over his lap and crying. After what seemed like an eternity, the spanking stopped, but Lok had hardly registered that fact when he found himself pulled upwards and bent across the back of the chair.

"Master, p-please," he brought out, unable to fathom receiving a caning on his already blazing bottom. "H-hurts!"

"I know," said Eeth, his voice sounding entirely unmoved. "Remember this when you ever again feel the temptation to disobey me during a mission. I DO NOT WANT YOU TO, and I mean it."

Lok badly felt like informing his master that this was more than abundantly clear by now and needed no further reinforcement, but he knew that this would be pointless, at best, or make his punishment even worse. And it was going to be more than bad enough as it was.

Lok had been caned by Eeth once before, over having deceived numerous teachers in order to get out of doing his homework, and it had enabled him to fully understand Eeth's decision to reserve the cane for the very worst offences. It just hurt like nothing else. When Eeth administered the first stroke now, however, he realised two things. The first one was that, however bad the pain seemed in hindsight, the memory of it never did justice to the real thing. The second one was that when Eeth had caned him over that incident, he had been holding back. Now he did not, or a lot less so. Lok let out an ear-splitting howl and tried to snap up from his bent-over position, but his master, having anticipated this, had used the Force to restrain him; it was like moving against a rubber barrier. Lok could have broken through with a real effort, he knew that from experience, but of course he was not expected to. He slumped back across the back of the chair and took the rest of the dozen strokes that his master had decided to deal out, yelling his throat hoarse because the pain was worse than any he had ever felt before. He had experienced a few pretty severe punishments throughout his padawanhood, from Master Jerad as well as from Eeth, but they all paled in comparison to this; and later, when he was forced to meditate about it, he realised that this seemed entirely appropriate because nothing he had done before had been as serious as his disobedience during their mission.

Lok remained slumped across the chair long after Eeth had stopped, literally wailing. After quite a while, he noticed a comforting hand stroking his back and leaned into it unconsciously; it calmed him down a little and he stopped his wailing, opting for quiet sobbing instead. After some more time, Eeth pulled him up and into a hug. Lok leaned into his chest gratefully, soaking his master's robes with tears and (yuck) snot, but thankfully, the man did not seem to mind.

Finally, Eeth detached himself from Lok and put two fingers under his padawan's chin, tilting his head and forcing him to look his master into the face in what Lok had come to recognise as a very characteristic gesture.

"Padawan, we are not quite finished," he said solemnly. "This was for your disobedience and the fact that you broke your promise to me. I want you to meditate on these things for half an hour. After that, I will consider the slate clean in that regard, and I will offer you a certain amount of healing. Which will leave us free to talk about the inadvisability of taking unnecessary risks to your health and life."

Lok groaned. He had more or less expected the meditation because he had by now learned that however much his bottom hurt after a punishment, Eeth would still order him to meditate on it. But he rather thought that the spanking and caning he had just received, plus the loss of his saber, were punishment enough. He saw no real need for a separate "talk" on recklessness. However, he remembered a previous occasion on which he had tried telling Eeth that his punishment was "a bit over the top," and that had not gone over well at all. In the worst case, uttering such a thought would just add to whatever Eeth had in mind for him.

"Alright, master," he therefore said in resignation, groping for a handkerchief in his pocket. Before he could find one, Eeth held one out to him. He waited until Lok had blown his nose and then said gravely: "One thing I have to point out to you before you meditate, concerning your disobedience, is that I have informed the Council of it. In light of your exceptional circumstances, they refrained from taking formal disciplinary action. But if there is any further instance of serious disobedience during a mission, you will have the Council to answer to, and that will not be pleasant. You will most certainly be put on probation and will receive a formal punishment. If I were you, I would try hard to avoid such an occurrance."

Lok sighed. "You did have to rat me out, didn't you?" he said. It was not a serious question, not really, but the glare that Eeth levelled at him made him shrink back.

"Hey, calm down, it was a joke!" he said hastily, raising his hands in self-defence.

"Well, I do not appreciate jokes about matters of life and death," Eeth replied coolly.

Lok could only just suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

Lok opted for meditating standing up because his bottom felt as if it was about to fall off of him; in fact, he was surprised, when he touched it gingerly, that there was no blood. It was hard for him to find his focus, but he finally did because he knew that Eeth would accept nothing less from him. When Eeth released him from the ordeal after exactly half an hour, he heaved a sigh of relief and readily lay down on the couch, bottom up, so that Eeth could take away the worst of the pain. And Eeth really did nothing more than that; by the time he was finished, it was not excruciating any longer, but there was still a dull ache and Lok knew that sitting was going to be rather uncomfortable. Obviously, his master wanted for the lesson to stick, and Lok did not think he could argue about that.

Thankfully, Eeth did not point him to a chair at the table, but to a soft armchair when they were done; this, Lok could just about manage. He sat down slowly and gingerly and looked at Eeth warily. The Jedi took the sanctity of life very seriously. Jerad had always been extremely unamused when Lok had taken unnecessary risks, and obviously Eeth was no different – especially since, as Lok had to reluctantly admit to himself, it had been quite some risk that he had taken on Mahau,

Sure enough, Eeth fixed him with a stern look and said: "Padawan, what made you think that it is in any way acceptable to throw away your health and even your life? You could have easily been killed. For no good reason."

"Well, my reason was that I wanted to protect _your_ life," Lok said emphatically. "And Lakhri's and Flynt's. They aren't worth less than mine, are they?" He really thought this was a valid argument. He could understand how he had made the wrong decision, that he should not have disobeyed, that he should have had more trust in Eeth, and that his actions had been dangerous, but his motives, he thought, had been selfless – and wasn't it alright to risk one's life in order to save others?

"Padawan, none of us needed you to save us," said Eeth acerbically. "We needed you to stay put, which would have made saving all our lives easier on everyone involved. I grant you that sometimes, it is necessary to take risks for a greater good. This was not one of those cases. And since you are not yet mature enough to tell the difference, you will kindly refrain from risking your life until I explicitly tell you to. Even when I do that, though, I will be very unlikely to ask you to employ Force-control techniques that you have not reliably mastered yet. If I ever again catch you doing things that you are not cleared to do on your own, I will put you under my permanent observation like a toddler until I feel you have gained a little more maturity. And I mean it."

Lok could not help himself. "Have you ever said anything that you don't mean?" he asked.

Eeth's eyes narrowed.

"I rarely do," he said coolly. "This, however, is an issue that I take more seriously than any other because I do. not. want. to. lose. you. Am I getting through to you at all?"

"Oh, so now you think that you can control my fate and prevent me from dying?" Lok retorted, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Doesn't always work out that way, you know. You need no more than a stupid virus to come along and… OUCH!"

He was suddenly pulled up by an ear and found Eeth's face inches from this.

"Don't you dare bring your former master into this," Eeth snapped. "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the need to avoid unnecessary risks to your safety. This is a lesson that you urgently need to learn, and I am more than willing to teach you. So, you will be spanked every night for a week, right after dinner. After which you will write lines on a topic related to your safety and the sanctity of life. Followed by one hour of meditation on that topic. After the week is over, we will repeat this talk and I will want to hear some insights then, or we can easily continue this until you understand exactly why I do not encourage recklessness in my padawans."

Lok shrank back from the fierceness in Eeth's voice and look - well, not much, because Eeth was still clamping his ear in an iron grip that hurt quite a bit. Force, he's freaking mad! he thought in consternation. By now he definitely thought that his punishment was completely over the top, but Eeth looked as stern as Lok had ever seen the man, and Lok did not think it was a good idea to protest.

"You're not going to start tonight, though, are you?" he asked in a small voice.

Eeth released his hold on his ear, but he did not look particularly mollified.

"Oh, I am definitely going to start tonight," he said grimly, folding his arms across his chest. "It is barely the middle of the morning, after all. By tonight, your bottom will be sufficiently recovered for a reminder concerning the kind of behaviour I expect from you. And do not look at me like that. If you think that I am exaggerating, remember that it was you who brought yourself into a situation where you had to use Force-enhanced running in the middle of a war-torn city and smashed head-first into a speeder wreck at maximum speed. I know that at your age you might be unable to imagine your own death, but you are very, very lucky to be alive. The next time, you might not be as lucky. And therefore, there will be no next time if I have any say in it."

For once, Lok had was at a loss for words. He suddenly found himself blinking back tears. And then, for the second time this morning, he was pulled into a strong hug and his tears were soaking Eeth's robes.


	21. Chapter 21: Lok

"Lok!" Gareth called out, hurrying up behind him.

"Oh, hi, Gareth," Lok said, turning around and giving his friend a half smile. His heart wasn't really in it, though, and it showed.

"What's up?" asked Gareth. "You've been missing in school all week. Have you been assigned a mission so soon after… uh… you now, having a new master?"

"Well, not exactly," said Lok. "My master has been assigned a mission. I was just allowed to join him and stay on the ship with a babysitter while it lasted. It was a complete disaster, though. He and his grandpadawan Flynt fell into a trap, Flynt was nearly killed, well, and I had the great idea to come to the rescue and ended up having to be rescued myself. All that after having smashed headfirst into a speeder wreck at Force-enhanced speed while a bunch of rebel soldiers were in hot pursuit. I cannot recommend following my example."

"Wow," Gareth said, eyes wide. "I can't even fathom my master taking me into such a situation at this point. I mean…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Lok with a sigh. "I don't think my master will be doing it again either. He was trying to be nice, I guess; you know, after my first master died, it would have been hard for me to be stuck at the Temple fearing for his life. And 'hard' is an understatement. Unfortunately, my master definitely stopped being nice after I went on my unauthorised rescue attempt and nearly got myself killed."

He grimaced and pointed at the place where his saber should have been.

"Ouch," said Gareth sympathetically.

"No, 'ouch' was the hiding he gave me after our return," said Lok grimly.

"Well, he does have a reputation for being strict," Gareth pointed out.

"Yes, and it's deserved, let me tell you that from first-hand experience," Lok replied a tad sullenly, opening the door to their astrophysics classroom.

He had already received two of his every-night-for-a-week spankings because the healers had ordered him to stay home from school for one more day after their return; today was day three. While these spankings had not been the horrifying ordeals he had experienced from Eeth on other occasions, they had hurt plenty, and Eeth had not offered healing either, with the result that he could feel them every time he sat down. It wasn't bad enough to render him unable to sit through a school day; just enough to remind him of the punishment he had received and the five more punishments that were still to come.

And it annoyed him. The feeling of irritation with his master that he had had at the outset of their mission had momentarily been eclipsed by the danger they had been in, his injury and the gravity of his transgression. Now it was back. So far, Lok had more or less been able to keep it in check, knowing that he was treading on thin ice anyway, but he could not help thinking that his master's disciplinary methods were completely exaggerated. Sure, they were effective. So were Jerad's, and Jerad had never deemed it necessary to spank him every night for a week! Lok was vaguely aware that this comparison was a bit unfair because with Jerad he had never been disobedient during a mission on the level that he had now been with Eeth, but he still thought that Jerad would have handled things differently. And whatever he would have decreed would have been more than adequate!

When Lok returned home after class and the door to their quarters swished open, the first thing he noticed was the delicious smell of herbs and fresh bread. For some reason, this annoyed him, too. Why, he wondered, was Eeth always being so _perfect_? What was wrong with simply going to the dining hall, as Jerad and he had usually done?

He pulled off his boots, hung up his cloak and made his way to his room without even saying hello to Eeth who seemed to be busy in the kitchen. And he was entirely aware that these were bad manners. He simply felt like displaying bad manners right now. He also knew that Eeth did not exactly look kindly upon bad manners, so he was rather surprised that there was no immediate reaction. After a few minutes, he found himself straining his ears. It sounded as if someone was setting the table. Well, if Eeth wanted help, he was welcome to say so!

Lok waited some more time. This was starting to become boring, however, so he finally decided to do his homework. His astrophysics assignment was rather difficult. It was not made any easier by the fact that he was hungry. He had a streak of stubborn pride, though, that he told him he could impossibly go out into the common room and ask for lunch now. After all the time he had spent in his room, this would require some sort of explanation, or worse, an apology. And he did not feel like that. Besides, by all rights, his master was supposed to check on him! Did he not care whether his padawan ate or not?

Thus, Lok plodded through his astrophysics homework and, on an increasingly growling stomach, his Bocce assignment as well. That left him with biology which he did not really feel like doing. He was just pondering whether it wouldn't be a good idea to go and seek out the bread he had smelled earlier when he sensed Eeth's Force presence approach and there was a knock on his door.

He paused for a moment, then called casually: "Yeah?" As the door opened, he made a show of starting on his biology homework.

"I have booked a training room for us in fifteen minutes, padawan," Eeth said in that calm, even, non-committal tone of voice that usually indicated he was entirely not pleased about something, but unwilling to enter an argument about it. "Please get your gym bag and come."

"I haven't had lunch yet!" Lok pointed out. It came out whinier than he would have liked.

"Since you saw no reason to offer help, let alone greet me when you returned home," Eeth replied, still in that deadpan tone of voice, "I, in turn, saw no reason to assume you were interested in lunch. I have no idea whether you expected me to serve you your lunch to your room, but that is certainly not going to happen unless you are seriously ill. Now get your gym bag. Our training room is waiting."

"I can't work out on an empty stomach," Lok said testily.

Eeth raised his eyebrows. "I think you will find that there are many things you can do if you make an effort, and missing a meal will be the least of them. Fortunately so; else you would not last long during most missions. More importantly, if eating lunch is so important to you, maybe you should just have done it instead of closing yourself into your room. It is certainly not my fault that your stomach is empty. Now I am going to say it for the third and last time, and that is already one more time than I will usually repeat the same order: Get your gym bag."

It was obvious to Lok that at this point there were only two choices: Obey or be swatted. Being swatted by Eeth was not something he was keen on, especially since some of that was in his future anyway, so he obeyed with a scowl.

When they had left their quarters and made their way to the turbolift, Eeth asked politely: "Could you enlighten me as to the meaning of your behaviour today, padawan?"

"What behaviour?" asked Lok, rather more aggressively than he had meant it to sound.

"You know perfectly well what behaviour I mean," said Eeth, and this time, he sounded distinctly stern.

"Well, do I always have to have a reason for everything?" Lok asked defensively.

"Don't be absurd," Eeth said brusquely. "Of course you have a reason for everything. Or do you think I am taking you for a mindless idiot? But since you seem incapable of giving a straightforward answer, let me rephrase the question. Have I given you any cause not to mind your manners towards me?"

This was a stupid way to rephrase the question, Lok thought in annoyance. It was a yes-or-no question, which meant that Eeth would expect him to give a yes-or-no answer. And the answer was, embarrassingly enough, a clear "no". Which Lok ground out reluctantly, barely resisting the urge to stomp his feet.

"I see," said Eeth simply. And nothing more. That irked Lok somewhat.

"What do you see?" he asked flippantly.

Eeth gave him a long, thoughtful look as the turbolift made its way to the lower levels.

"I see that you have resumed the same irritable behaviour that I noticed before and during our mission," he finally said quietly. "The one where you seem constantly annoyed by everything I say or do and act as if you are intent on having your bottom spanked multiple times per day. If that is really what you want, I will be happy to oblige, but I highly doubt that is the case. As such, I advise you to contemplate the reasons for your behaviour and talk to your soul healer about it. If you keep testing the limits of my tolerance, you will not be pleased with the result."

Lok snorted. "Tolerance, yeah…" he muttered.

The turbolift door hissed open. Eeth followed Lok outside, calmly and firmly took hold of his arm, bent him forward against the wall of the corridor, pulled out his paddle and swatted him three times, hard.

Releasing his hold, he said curtly: "My point exactly."

Lok had not expected this. He managed to bite back yelps during the swats, but they stung fiercely, even over his pants. Righting himself, he turned and noticed a couple of passers-by throwing him half-amused, half-sympathetic glances. He felt his cheeks redden.

"Do you _like_ punishing me in front of an audience?" he asked hotly.

Eeth raised his eyebrows. "Whether you find me aggravating or not, I expect you to be respectful," he said coolly. "You know that, and you also know the consequences of disrespect. If you do not want anyone watching, mind your manners."

"For Force's sake, it was a joke!" Lok exclaimed in annoyance.

Eeth just gave him a look of polite disbelief and pointed him to the change rooms.

When Eeth started to lead him through a round of warm-up exercises, Lok realised that he had never had to do this on an empty stomach. Come to think of it, he had never ever had to really miss a meal either. Jerad and he had undertaken several missions and survival exercises, but somehow food had never been a real issue, especially since Lok was not at all picky about what he ate. Of course, at thirteen years of age, he had never been assigned a mission that involved true hardship. He liked to think that he would be able to deal with it when it happened, but right now, he thought in irritation, there was absolutely no reason for him to go hungry other than Eeth's desire to get back at him for not having greeted him properly, which was entirely disproportional and unfair. And it was with that attitude that he went through the exercises.

Eeth did not comment on Lok's lackluster performance. He simply made the warm-up longer and more thorough than usual; at least that was the impression Lok got. Not one to give up easily, he gritted his teeth and made more of an effort. Apparently, Eeth noticed; he ended the warm-up and handed Lok his saber for kata practice.

Being handed his saber by his master, like a creche baby, was degrading, Lok felt. With a mighty scowl on his face, he went through the eighth kata, not particularly caring what he did. Unfortunately, Eeth was not very tolerant of his sloppy performance. He stuck out his foot at precisely the right moment; Lok stumbled, lost his balance and fell clean onto his ass.

"Pay attention to your stance," Eeth said drily. "Start over."

"Are you actively trying to annoy me?" Lok asked in a rather accusatory tone of voice, disigniting his saber and picking himself up from the floor slowly.

Eeth raised his eyebrows.

"I think that is your part today," he replied matter-of-factly. "I am merely trying to teach you. Start over."

"I'm hungry," Lok said angrily, "and you're refusing to let me have lunch for no good reason."

Eeth's mouth tightened into a firm line as he fixed a penetrating glare onto his padawan. He did not say a word, but Lok knew that look: either he obeyed, or there was going to be trouble. And that did it. Lok was suddenly felt a rage the likes of which he had not felt in a long time. He wanted to get back at Eeth for not behaving like a master should; he wanted to make him feel as bad as Lok himself felt. He flung his saber onto the ground and yelled: "You're an insufferable control freak! My _real_ master would have gotten me some lunch instead of standing there and watching me until I make the tiniest mistake and then jumping on it. You're not a master, you're a– a– bully! I HATE YOU!"

For the first time since he had got to know Eeth, the man looked actually shocked, if only for a brief moment, and that gave Lok a feeling of satisfaction. However, it was also disturbing; Eeth had never, ever given him the impression that he had no idea what to do or say. Until now. Lok took in the outright flabbergasted look on the man's face and then did the only thing he could think of, which was to turn and run. He fleetingly heard an order to stop, but paid that no mind; and surprisingly, nobody came after him to snatch his collar. That's how important I am to him, he thought bitterly as he weaved through the crowds in the gym's main hallway. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea where he was going to. And he was _not_ going to hide in a meditation garden again. That had not worked particularly well the last time he had tried it either. He needed a different strategy. 

He ran his hand through his hair as he hurried along a random corridor and thought. He did not want to meet Gareth or any of his other friends. They were leading happy, healthy lives; they would not understand. Then inspiration struck him. Gwened! She had been Jerad's padawan as well; she had been affected by losing him just as much. Gwened might be able to advise him.

"Gwened, you have to help me," he said in despair, plopping down onto her carpet. "I made a huge mistake."

"What, have you been smoking death sticks or got involved with a girl?" asked Gwened, sitting down next to him and putting an arm around her shoulder.

"No, I accepted a new master and found out I can't stand him," Lok said morosely.

Gwened gave him an incredulous look. "You must be joking," she said. "I've seen the two of you. You seemed to get along with him just fine. And he clearly cares about you, a lot!"

"Obviously not enough to come after me," Lok pointed out. "Or to let me eat lunch before he drags me to the gym. I'm starving."

Gwened frowned. "This makes no sense to me," she admitted. "How about I find something to eat for you and you tell me the whole story?"

"Okay," Lok agreed. Things looked bleak, but food sounded like a good idea.

Five minutes later, he was tucking into a sandwich and starting to feel a little silly. Still, Gwened was there and willing to listen, and he felt like he owed her an explanation. She knew the basics of the disastrous trip to Mahau, so he started by telling her the details. The more he talked, the easier it seemed. He told her all about his irritation with his master; his annoyance at Eeth's strictness, which seemed totally over the top; and the events that had led him to Gwened's quarters. Gwened listened quietly and intently, without interruptions and without any kind of judgment in her facial expression, which made it a lot easier for Lok to pour his heart out.

"I don't know what got over me," he said in despair. "I was just so angry! I yelled at him the most hurtful stuff I could think of at the moment, calling him a control freak and a bully, and, well…" He blushed. "I screamed at him that I hate him. And I know that hit home because I've never seen him look at me like this before."

"Do you still feel that you hate him?" asked Gwened softly.

Lok paused. "No," he said finally, "and I don't think I felt like that even when I yelled it. The control freak thing… okay, maybe a little. I _was_ angry with him, for whatever reason. But I don't hate him. I'm just afraid he might hate _me_ after all this."

Gwened solemnly shook her head. Lok remembered that at times he had thought she lacked a sense of humour, but right now he found that fact comforting. She would never laugh about him. "You don't really believe that," she said. "He's not an insecure teenager, after all. Do you really think he would give up on you that easily?"

Lok suddenly remembered the last time when he had believed Eeth would kick him out. It hadn't happened. He had received quite a punishment, though; the memory made him flinch. "Probably not," he admitted. "But I assume he's quite mad at me."

"If I were him," Gwened said quietly, "I wouldn't be mad, I'd be worried."

Lok thought about this. Yes, Eeth tended to worry, especially about his safety. On the other hand, why had he not come after him? In contrast to the last time Lok had run away, he was not making any particular effort to raise his shields, so Eeth could easily have found him by now.

"Well, why isn't he ringing your doorbell, then?" he asked Gwened. "We have a training bond and all."

"I dunno, maybe he wants to give you some space," Gwened suggested. "Or he might expect you to yell at him again? Maybe he simply doesn't know what to do. Or he did the same thing you did, and found someone to talk to?"

Lok was simply not used to thinking of Eeth in such terms. So far, Eeth had always seemed to know what to do, without having talked to someone first! But it was true that the look on his face when Lok had screamed at him had been unprecedented.

"So you think I should be the one to seek him out?" he asked Gwened uncertainly. Gwened was silent for a while. Then she said: "Before you do that, you might want to think about just why he annoys you so much. You said yourself you have no idea what got into you. A lot of what you said sounded a lot like… no, forget it."

"What did it sound like?" pressed Lok. He had been wondering the same thing himself, and he had found no answer so far.

Gwened hesitated. "It might be totally stupid," she hedged. "It was just an impression. I don't know if it would be fair to sell it to you as if I was some kind of soul healer."

"I know you aren't," said Lok. "But I still want to know what it sounded like to you. Please."

Gwened sighed. "Alright," she said. "It sounded to me as if you are angry with Eeth for… well, for not being Jerad."

Lok just looked at her, at a loss for words. At this moment, the doorbell rang.


	22. Chapter 22: Eeth

Chapter 22: Eeth

Lok's outburst took Eeth by surprise. He could deal with teenage rebelliousness, surliness, disrespect, disobedience – but this? Obviously Lok had no idea how to react either; he took one wide-eyed look at his master's face and ran. Out of reflex, Eeth called after him; but he suppressed his urge to run after Lok, grab him and, well, swat him because he honestly had no idea whether a padawan who yelled that he hated him ought to be swatted, comforted, dragged to see his soul healer or left alone.

He urgently needed to talk to someone. He needed advice.

#############################

"It is not funny," he told Lakhri severely.

"Sorry," said Lakhri, trying hard, and failing, to sound apologetic and keep his amusement in check. "It's just… Force, Eeth, the boy is thirteen! I don't know how many times I felt like yelling 'I hate you' when I was that age!"

Eeth frowned. "I was not aware of that," he said.

"Well, I never worked up the courage to actually do it," Lakhri pointed out. "It wouldn't have been worth the ass-kicking I would have gotten in return."

Eeth's frown deepened. "I grant you I might not have handled things very well with you," he said, "and I might have given you ample reason to hate me. With Lok, however, I feel I have more of an effort to take into account his emotional needs. Do you think it might not have been sufficient?"

Lakhri sighed. "You don't get the point," he said. "I didn't say I hated you. I said I felt like yelling 'I hate you.' These are different things. I didn't hate you, and I'm sure neither does Lok."

Now Eeth was really confused, and that was a feeling he was unaccustomed to.

"Why would you have wanted to yell that you hate me if you did not hate me?" he inquired. "This makes no sense to me."

"I hate to break it to you," Lakhri said, a slight grin reappearing on his face, "but we're talking emotions here. Feelings. And possibly hormones as well."

"So?" Eeth asked impatiently.

"So you yell 'I hate you' when you're angry with someone and want to hurt them," Lakhri said. "And obviously, it worked. Don't pretend it didn't upset you."

Eeth hesitated for a moment, then admitted: "You are right. It did upset me. Why was he angry with me, though?"

"You mean, besides the obvious?" Lakhri asked cheekily.

Eeth raised his eyebrows. "If you mean by 'obvious' the fact that he was punished for his gross disobedience during our mission," he said, "then this is neither a good reason for him to be angry with me, nor is it characteristic for Lok to be angry over such things. He responds well to having his boundaries enforced. Lately, though, he has been disgruntled with a lot of things I said or did, and most of them did not involve discipline."

"Hmm," said Lakhri, thinking.

Eeth hesitated for a moment, then asked: "Suppose he yelled 'I hate you' because he does, after all … hate me?"

Lakhri rolled his eyes. "Now you're being silly," he said.

"I am not," Eeth said with dignity. "Or what do you think people who really hate someone would yell?"

Lakhri flung up his hands.

"Force, I don't go around hating people," he pointed out. "I can hardly claim to be an expert. But I'd take any bet they don't content themselves with yelling and storming out on you. Now can we get back to the important stuff?"

"I was merely mentioning a possible reason for Lok to yell that he hates me," Eeth pointed out.

"Eeth!" Lakhri exclaimed, in a tone of voice that was so exasperated that it bordered on a reprimand. "Will you take my word for it that Lok does not, I repeat: NOT, hate you? Me being a certified expert on not hating people?"

Eeth blinked, at a loss for words. He did not think Lakhri had ever used that tone of voice on him before.

"Thank you," Lakhri said, taking his silence for an answer. "Now. You said this is not because of his punishment?"

"I do not think so," said Eeth, frowning. "He has been irritable even before our mission, and – well, you were there. You saw what he was like during the mission."

"Yes, I did," Lakhri agreed. "Fairly obnoxious was what he was like, and most of it was focussed on you. I see what you mean."

"He came home, ignored me and missed out on lunch, for no apparent reason," Eeth said. "This makes no sense."

"Well, he is a teenager," Lakhri reminded him. "They do things that make no sense at times, just to show the adults how aggravating they find them. I'm also wondering… no. Well, yes. But first, tell me you won't scoff at this."

"I will never scoff at anything you say," Eeth said solemnly. "After all, I came to you for advice."

"Alright," said Lakhri, running his hands across his face as if trying to gather his thoughts. "It's like this. I've sometimes felt that, when a master finds a padawan and they start living together, it's a bit as if, in the outside world, people who have fallen in love move in with each other, only a lot more sudden. You start out by thinking the world of the other person, and are all thrilled about this new step in your life. Okay, maybe not you, but most people. Then, they live with each other and see each other every day, morning, noon and night. And they start to notice small things that bother them, and the other person just keeps doing these things and it gets aggravating and grates on your nerves. To a certain extent, this is probably what happens with all new master-padawan teams, only for Lok it must have been much worse because he had just got used to a different master, and then that master dies and you come along with all your mannerisms."

"What mannerisms?" asked Eeth, completely astonished.

Lakhri chuckled. "Aww, come on. You have any number of mannerisms. Don't tell me you didn't know that."

"No, I did not," Eeth said truthfully. "I know I have a reputation for being strict, but I do not think that this is what you mean. Was there anything else about my behaviour or speech that you found aggravating when you became my padawan?"

"Oh yes, loads of little things," Lakhri said immediately. "For example, the way you always called me 'padawan' and never by my first name. And you always talk so formally - you hardly ever deign to use contractions when you talk. The way your hair is always impeccable even at six thirty in the morning. Force, you are always so damn perfect! All these little things could be mightily annoying at times."

Eeth frowned. "You never told me so," he said.

"Well, you weren't exactly inviting shows of confidence," Lakhri pointed out. "And besides, I got used to it, and eventually I even grew to like these things about you. They are simply what you are, and I wouldn't want you any other way now. This is what usually happens, I think; Lok will just need time to get over it. Don't forget that his master's death is still very fresh."

"There is not a day on which I forget about that," Eeth said. "However, it has also become very clear that Lok does not wish preferential treatment because of that fact, nor does it do him any good."

"Fair enough," said Lakhri. "Deal with him however you think you should. But I think it would be a good idea to talk to him first. The two of you need to sort these things out."

"Do you think he will want me to seek him out?" Eeth inquired. On emotional territory, he was not feeling very confident.

Lakhri raised his eyebrows. "Eeth, you're the adult here," he said. "It's your job to seek him out. And, yes, I think he will be waiting for you. People who yell such stuff at other people usually want attention. They don't want to be ignored."

Eeth rose.

"Alright," he said. "Since you are the expert on emotional issues here, I will take your word for it."

#############################

Having rung the doorbell to Gwened's quarters, Eeth waited. And waited. He thought he heard sounds of squabbling behind the door, but the Temple doors were nearly soundproof; he could not be sure.

Finally, the door opened, revealing both Gwened and Lok; Lok looked as if he'd rather be somewhere else.

"Gwened," Eeth said quietly. "Padawan – Lok. We need to talk."

Lok frowned. "Talk, yeah," he muttered.

"Yes, talk," Eeth said firmly. "In the conventional sense of the word, where you say things and I say things. There is no need to act as if I do not know the concept. We have done it before. Come."

Lok sighed. "Alright," he said unenthusiastically. "Thanks, Gwened."

"You're welcome," she said softly, hugging him. "It's going to be alright, Lok."

Lok looked unconvinced, but he did follow Eeth into the corridor.

"Have you eaten?" asked Eeth. It was nearing dinnertime and having that conversation on an empty stomach would probably not be conducive to Lok's mood.

"Since when do you care whether I've eaten?" asked Lok, rather aggressively.

Eeth stopped.

"I have always cared, and you know it," he said calmly, but with a hint of steel that indicated he was not going to take much more of this. "I care enough to cook you meals, after all. You were the one who gave the impression of not caring, not me. Now, lose the attitude and tell me whether you have eaten. The question should be simple enough to answer."

"Gwened has made me sandwiches," Lok replied in a considerably less aggressive voice, after a pause. "But I'm still hungry. Or again."

Eeth nodded. "Alright," he said. "I saved you your lunch. We will go home and have our talk over dinner, then. I do not want you to keep snapping at me just because you are hungry."

Lok was silent on the way home, and so was Eeth. When they had entered their quarters, Eeth said: "I will heat dinner. Could you set the table?"

Lok nodded reluctantly. Ten minutes later, they were seated, each with a plate of spicy vegetable casserole and a loaf of freshly baked bread before them.

"And when," asked Lok half-warily, half-sullenly, "comes the part where you come down on me for yelling at you and running out on you?"

Eeth paused for a moment. Then he said: "Tell me honestly, padawan. Did my behaviour towards you make it so hard to believe that I am capable of simply talking to you, as opposed to scolding or disciplining you? Do you truly think reprimands are the only form of expression that I am capable of? Or are you merely trying to provoke me? If it is the latter, I have to admit I am getting a bit tired of this. It tends to make our conversations go in circles."

Judging from the look on Lok's face, he had scored a point. Lok looked at his plate for a moment, then looked up again.

"Sorry," he said, and it truly sounded apologetic. "I keep doing this and I don't even know why. I'm finding myself annoyed at a lot of things you do and say for no obvious reason. And I'm aware how obnoxious that must be to you."

"Whether or not it is obnoxious is hardly the point," Eeth said quietly. "It is puzzling, and a little worrying."

Lok's cheeks flushed a little. "Just for the record, I don't actually hate you," he mumbled.

Eeth was glad that Lakhri had been right, but decided not to divulge the fact that he had discussed Lok's behaviour with the man; he was not sure how that information would go over.

"That is good to know," Eeth said wryly. "Having to live with a master you hate would probably not be helpful."

Lok's cheeks flushed a little darker red. Eeth sensed that he wanted to say more and was gathering the courage to do so. Therefore, he remained silent and ate some casserole, waiting.

"Gwened," Lok finally said, "Gwened thinks that I might be angry with you for not being Jerad. And I think there is some truth to it. I'm sorry for the awful way in which I behaved towards you. Really, I am, but I just don't seem to be able to stop myself."

He swallowed, staring at his spoon intently.

"You really deserve better," he whispered, and Eeth realised he was blinking back tears.

He rose, walked around the table and rested his hands on Lok's shoulders.

"I have told you before that having you as my padawan is no more of a challenge than I can handle," he said gently. "And I would not want any other padawan. The Force has led you to me for a reason. I have not believed for a moment that it would be easy, taking care of a boy who is grieving for his former master. Nor have I doubted for a moment that this is what I need to do, both for your sake – and for mine. You are not a burden to me, Lok. You have become a very welcome and important part of my life, and the unsurprising fact that it takes you more than a few weeks to get over your master's death does not change anything about this."

Lok's shoulders started to tremble. And then he jumped up, hugged Eeth fiercely and started to cry into his robes.

An hour later, the tears had dried, dinner had been eaten, and Lok and Eeth were sitting on the couch, Lok leaning into Eeth's shoulder.

"Oh, by the way: the next time you feel like yelling at me, you take a deep breath and release your negative emotions into the Force," Eeth said, a tad sternly. "Or, if you find yourself unable to do that, you ask for help. If you just give in to your aggressions like that again, there will be trouble."

Lok sighed. "Yeah. I actually still can't believe I got away with screaming at you without getting swatted. I mean, let's face it, I was a pain in the ass."

"You are not going to get away with it a second time," Eeth assured him. "That much is certain. And I am not even sure it is wise of me to let you get away with it this time. Lenience does not generally work well for you."

"That's probably true," Lok said ruefully. He paused for a moment, then asked: "Why do you let me get away with it? I mean, not that I'm complaining or anything…"

"Padawan, I am not an ogre," said Eeth patiently. "You were distraught. This had been building up for a long time. And we needed to have this talk. What you need now is not punishment; what you need is to meditate a lot more often than you used to. You need to deal with your emotions, and meditation is the Jedi way to do so. Therefore, we will add at least one additional meditation to your daily schedule, after lunch, and more when I say so."

Lok groaned. "Great," he said. "'You will do extra meditations, but, no, I'm not punishing you.' How typical." There was no venom in his statement, though.

"Extra meditations are not a punishment," Eeth said mildly. "They will help you feel less volatile. And I am talking out of experience here. You are not the first padawan to have that problem, after all. Being spanked on a daily basis for pointless temper tantrums would be the less desirable option for dealing with that, I presume."

Lok gave the impression of wanting to object. But he did not. Instead, he yawned. "Yes, master," he said demurely. He snuggled a bit closer to Eeth and his eyes dropped shut. Eeth shifted slightly to put his arm around him. Ten minutes later, Lok was deep asleep.


	23. Chapter 23: Lok

"Can't we skip the meditation this once?" Lok asked Eeth imploringly, waiting for his master to finish lunch. "I've been good lately, haven't I?"

It was true, he felt. Since the incident where he had yelled at Eeth in the gym four weeks ago, and the talk they had had afterwards, Lok had made an effort to be on his best behaviour. He had also worked on his issues with his soul healers and - although he hated to admit it - the enormous amount of meditations Eeth had made him do had helped, too. He had not been in serious trouble ever since, and he had finally received his saber back. Flynt had made a full recovery and seemed to hold no grudge, which helped. All in all, Lok thought he was entitled to a break.

Eeth, however, did not seem to agree. "Yes, you have, and no, we cannot," he said, unfazed.

"Are you going to make me do this until I'm knighted, or maybe until I'm old and grey?" Lok inquired impatiently. "I told Gareth I'd meet him for studying chemistry and we won't have time unless we get a move on - or you let me skip meditation this once."

"I have already told you I will not let you skip it," Eeth replied with a hint of sternness to his voice, "nor is the point of meditation to 'get a move on'. You knew what your schedule was. If you make appointments that you might not be able to keep, there is no reason to blame me."

"I'm totally blaming you. For being the most inflexible master in the history of the Jedi Order," Lok grumbled.

"Oh, yes," Eeth said calmly. "I am entirely inflexible about what I think is good for you."

He laid his fork and knife onto his plate. "We can meditate now," he said. "If you are willing to wash the dishes after dinner, you will have about an hour left for your appointment. After that, I have booked us a gym."

* * *

Unfortunately, Lok's unprecedented streak of saintly behaviour seemed to have caused him to forget just how much Eeth valued timeliness. And, of course, the RULES. In capital letters. He came home, out of breath and with flushed cheeks, to find a rather displeased-looking master waiting.

"You," said Eeth, "are twelve minutes late."

"Yes," said Lok, rolling his eyes. "A huge deal. AND I've been running in the corridor, and no, I don't have an excuse other than forgetting to look at my chrono, and I know that's no excuse, so I apologise. And if that's not enough, I apologise again. And a third time if you like me to. And – OWW!"

Eeth had grabbed him by the ear, bent him forward and swatted his bottom, hard.

"Stop giving me cheek," he snapped, "or the next time you absolutely want to fit an appointment into an already busy day, I will simply say no. Is that clear?"

"Yes, master," Lok brought out, wriggling around in a futile attempt to escape the vice-like pressure on his ear.

"Good," Eeth said grimly. He released his hold on Lok's ear, but pressed down on the boy's back with his left hand. With his right, he swatted him soundly a dozen times at a measured pace. Lok flinched, whined and shifted his weight from foot to foot; this was not excruciatingly painful, but painful nonetheless. When Eeth had completed the dozen, he made to get up, but his master continued holding him down.

"That was for being twelve minutes late," said Eeth. "As for running in the corridor…"

He swatted Lok's bottom another three times, and those three were quite spectacular. Lok yelped at the first two and nearly wailed at the third. Then Eeth's large hand left his back, and he was free to stand up. Which he did, but slowly. His bottom was stinging mightily, after all, and it required a lot of self-control to refrain from rubbing and hopping around. He did not quite dare to scowl at Eeth, so he scowled at the floor instead.

"See? Rigid and inflexible, I said," he muttered very quietly.

"Quite so," Eeth, who had very good ears, replied, entirely unmoved. "And since you knew that all along, you had all the more reason to be in time. Now go to your room and pack a mission bag. There has been a change of plans."

Lok stood and stared.

* * *

"You might consider actually folding your tunics," Eeth said severely. "No wonder you need two bags for an unspecific mission of short duration."

Lok rolled his eyes. "I asked you for advice on how to pack efficiently, not for being told off," he said. He said it politely, though, since his bottom still felt as if sitting down too fast might be a bad idea.

"When you deserve to be told off, you will be told off nonetheless," Eeth replied drily, without heat. He neatly folded a tunic into a rectangular shape.

"Fold the others like this as well," he said. "Four tunics will suffice. We will spend most of our time on a spaceship where we can sterilise our clothes."

"Won't we get to spend any time on, what's the name of the place – Tovar?" asked Lok. "We just grab the child and return? How old is he or she, anyway?"

"Six months," replied Eeth. "Which more or less answers your question. Or do you really want to spend your time carrying a six-months-old baby around a nondescript colony on the Outer Rim? Our task is to bring her to the Temple and hand her over to the creche masters. I am afraid it does not involve tourism."

Not the most thrilling of missions, he knew; but then, the Council and he had thought they had better restart Lok's mission schedule with something that offered as little risk of triggers as possible. Lok had made enough of a mess of the last mission that he had unwittingly become part of, after all.

Lok grimaced.

"That young?" he asked as he haphazardly folded a tunic into an untidy heap. "Do we even know how to take care of a baby?"

He made to lay the tunic onto the one Eeth had folded, but Eeth plucked it from his hand and shook it open.

"Do it properly," he said. "We still have some time before we need to leave, so you may as well learn how to fold a tunic. Has Jerad not taught you that? Anyway, I do know how to take care of babies. And if you do not, you will learn."

Lok scowled a little, but he had to concede he had not really made an effort. Sighing, he laid the tunic flat and tried to fold it as neatly as he could.

"No, Jerad has not taught me how to fold tunics into rectangles," he said, "nor flowers nor gliding swans. And we never went on missions that involved babies."

Saying this did not hurt as much as it would have a month or two ago, he realised. He did not know whether to feel good or bad about this.

"My master forced me to help out in the creche quite frequently when I was a little older than you," said Eeth. "At the time, I resented it, but I later realised I actually learned a few skills, such as changing diapers. That was not the reason for which she assigned me creche duty, but it was a useful side effect."

He gave Lok a thoughtful look.

"I know what you're thinking," said Lok. "No, I don't urgently need to be put on creche duty. You can just show me how to change a diaper when we've picked up the baby. How long does the trip take, anyway?"

Eeth had to suppress a smile at Lok's perceptiveness.

"Four days each way," he replied. "I daresay you will acquire some skills."

"Oh joy," said Lok. "Look, I managed to fold it into a rectangle. At the rate I'm acquiring skills, I'll have super powers by the month after next."

* * *

It turned out the ship was equipped with a pilot, a young Iktotchi knight called Shanaee Satii.

"Mostly so you can devote your full time and attention to taking care of the baby," she told them, giving them a toothy grin.

"Yes, that will be practical," Eeth replied, his voice and facial expression entirely deadpan. Lok laughed at her confused look.

"He's always like that," he told her. "And it doesn't mean he didn't get the joke."

"There is no need for you to explain me to other people," Eeth remarked to Lok in an undertone as they made their way to the large cabin they were going to share. "I usually get by without an interpreter."

"Your sense of humour needs one," Lok said. "Because people who don't know you reliably think you don't have one."

Eeth looked at Lok strangely.

"What?" asked Lok.

"The last time somebody tried to be this protective of me was when I still had a master," said Eeth. "I might have told her there is no need."

Lok badly felt like sticking his tongue out at Eeth.

"However," Eeth continued, "I am still not entirely sure whether I was right."

He pushed open the door to their cabin, leaving Lok staring after him. Sometimes, his master still was an enigma to him.

* * *

The ship was a little slower, but larger and more comfortable than the one they had used on their last trip. It even contained a well-equipped gym; apparently, it was routinely used for transporting Jedi.

Eeth nodded in satisfaction as he surveyed the room, complete with ropes hanging from the ceiling.

"Time for a workout," he said. "We might be too busy for that on our way back, so we should make good use of our time now. I will also want to look at your skills at using the Force to conceal yourself."

"You will?" Lok asked, pleasantly surprised. He was actually fairly accomplished at that for someone his age, due to the fact that it had been Jerad's specialty. Eeth had not worked on it with him so far, though, and after his spectacular mess-up during their trip to Mahau, he had not dared ask him.

"Yes, I will," Eeth assured Lok. "So far, I have not considered it a priority since you were quite young to have mastered such skills anyway. On the other hand, it occurred to me that letting you become completely out of practice is not a very good idea either."

He hesitated a little, then continued slowly: "I should really… consult you more where your training is concerned. There can be no debate about the basics of your lessons and physical fitness, but I am willing to take your talents and your wishes into account as far as the rest of your schedule is concerned. If you would like me to."

Again, Lok stared. These days, his master did not cease to surprise him.


	24. Chapter 24: EethLokEethLok

Lok's streak of good behaviour lasted throughout most of the journey. Eeth made an effort to keep him from becoming bored, and apparently, that paid off. He helped the boy through his lessons, which Lok was finding easier to deal with now than he had at the beginning of the cycle. They did workouts and meditations together and, as promised, Eeth also coached him in stealth and evasion techniques. Lok had a talent for those and had been trained well by Jerad, but of course, he was no match for Eeth who was, after all, an experienced Jedi master and whose Force control had always been supremely good.

"Is there anything you're not good at, by any chance?" Lok asked Eeth in exasperation on the third day of their trip after he had failed to detect the man for the third time, despite the fact that they shared a bond.

"Communicating with animals," Eeth replied immediately. "You want Raven for that one."

Lok rolled his eyes. "That was not what I meant" he retorted. "I'm no good at it either. It's a rare skill anyway. I meant from among the more ordinary stuff."

Eeth raised his eyebrows. He would have thought the answer was obvious.

"I am not good at all at dealing with people," he said frankly. "My master made me learn small talk. I studied it like others learn a foreign language. The same is true for diplomacy. And, ultimately, for raising a padawan. You are benefitting from all the mistakes I made with Lakhri, and to a lesser extent with Raven, and from the fact that I am trying to improve."

Lok tilted his head, looking at Eeth.

"You know," he said, "I don't think you're at all bad with people. I mean, you're not exactly easy-going. But not everyone has to be. It didn't take you more than a couple of hours to get through to me when I was grieving for Master Jerad, and quite a number of people had tried before. And if the Council sends you off to negotiate with folks like the Awaré rebels, you can't be all useless at that either."

Eeth was at a loss for words, and that did not happen often.

"It might have learned a thing or two over the years," he finally said. "But it has never been easy for me. Not as it is for you."

"And since when do we give up when something becomes difficult?" Lok intoned solemnly in a perfect imitation of Eeth's voice.

"I try not to," Eeth said calmly, deciding to end this conversation which was becoming entirely too uncomfortable for his liking. "And neither will you. Next round. Your turn to conceal yourself."

* * *

On the morning of the fourth day, Knight Satii, of whom they had not seen much due to the fact that she was cramming details for a long-term mission into her head, called Eeth to the cockpit, alerting him to an incoming communication from the Council. Lok continued his breakfast on his own. He had nearly finished when unexpectedly, Knight Satii, rather than Eeth, came to join him.

"The Council wanted your master's input on something," she said, plopping down onto a chair and helping herself to one of the rather bland buns their starship had in store. "He's currently busy having a holo call with Mace Windu. I assume he thinks it's gonna take a while since he gave me a note asking me to have a workout with you."

Lok raised his eyebrows. "Alright," he said slowly. "No offence meant, but do you know how to do this?"

"Yes, smarty-pants," said Knight Satii, raising her eyebrows as well. "I might not have a padawan yet, but I do know how to spar. And I have taught any number of classes. Why, are you doubting my competence?"

Lok shrugged. "You've seen my master," he said with a slight air of superiority about him because, truth be told, he had by now become quite proud of having been apprenticed to Eeth Koth, of all persons, and he also did not like the Knight's tone. "He's good at everything. It's quite hard to live up to that."

Knight Satii snorted. "Leaving aside the fact that nobody is good at everything," she said, "I hadn't planned on living up to Eeth Koth's standards. That doesn't mean you can't have a workout with me. Are you done? Let's clean up the dishes and get going."

* * *

"I think I've warmed up enough," said Lok. He said it quite politely. Nonetheless, it was something he wouldn't have tried on Eeth because he knew the man enough by now to suspect what reaction that would get him. If Eeth was feeling tolerant, he would merely say "I will be the judge of that" and continue. If Lok persisted after that, Eeth would glare and order him to stop whining immediately, and he would make the rest of the warm-up twice as long and hard as he ordinarily would have done. Any further complaints would result in Lok being swatted. It was not that Lok had actually tested this theory; but Eeth, despite his ability to occasionally surprise Lok, was predictable in many ways.

* * *

"Tired already?" asked Knight Satii with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Or are you just trying to antagonise me? Either way, go on."

Lok rolled his eyes, but obeyed, mostly because he had no desire to push Knight Satii into going to his master to complain about him. He obeyed in bad grace, though, and without putting in a lot of effort. Knight Satii told him to hurry up several times. She gave the impression that she was running out of patience. Well, Lok thought, that was too bad for her.

When they finally had finished with their warm-up, it turned out that she was specialised in Soresu and that was what she was intending to work on with him.

"I do Ataru, though," said Lok.

"I know," said Satii. "So does your master. Well, I do Soresu. And you might as well learn what I can teach you best. They must have taught you the basics in the creche, anyway."

"Yes, but that was ages ago," said Lok.

"Pity your memory is that bad," said Satii, and now she was definitely annoyed. "You'll just have to learn it anew."

Lok had no clear idea why he resented the knight teaching him. He just did. That should be Eeth's job, he thought irritably as he made a lacklustre attempt to learn the block Knight Satii tried to teach him. Jerad had never spent his missions talking to Mace Windu and neglecting Lok over it. Never! But of course, Eeth was _important_. Or maybe he was just showing off.

That line of thought was cut off by a slash from Satii's saber that forced Lok to jump out of harm's way. Another slash sent him stumbling and falling onto his bottom.

"Would you mind focussing on what you're doing?" Satii demanded. "I get that you don't feel like learning this move, but your master asked me to teach you and that's what I'll do."

If Lok had not been busy picking himself off the ground, he probably would have been more alert. As it was, he was caught completely by surprise when he heard his master say: "That is quite commendable. Thank you, Knight Satii. Padawan, what is going on here?"

Eeth was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, and pointing a rather displeased look at Lok. For some reason, this riled Lok even more.

"Nothing is going on," he said loftily. "She was teaching me because you couldn't be bothered."

"'She' is 'Knight Satii' to you," Eeth said coolly. "And being rude to me is not buying you any favours."

"Well, I don't need your favours," Lok snapped, disigniting his saber and clipping it to his belt. "Other than maybe the favour of teaching me yourself, rather than delegating it to someone else. Now excuse me."

He headed for the door and made to push past Eeth. Eeth was having none of it. He grabbed Lok by his upper arm and propelled him back into the room.

"You wait here," he said, and his tone of voice made clear that this was not a request, it was an order. "Knight Satii, would you come with me for a moment?"

"Sure," said Satii. The look she gave Lok as she followed Eeth out of the room was nearly sympathetic. Nearly, but not quite. It occurred to Lok to just leave, but first, even in his current mood, he was not that suicidal, and second, it was likely that he was going to run into Eeth in the corridor anyway and that would not accomplish anything. With a sigh, he flopped down on the gym mat and propped his head up on his elbow. He was starting to feel bad about the way he had behaved. Unfortunately, he had a tendency to compensate for such feelings by acting up, and that had got worse when he had entered adolescence. He had had frequent run-ins with Jerad over this and the ensuing consequences had lessened this habit somewhat, but it seemed that it was back at full force.

After a minute, Eeth returned. He closed the door behind himself and looked down upon Lok, frowning. Lok made no move to get up. He might have done so had he known that Eeth was going to pull him up by his ear, though, because that really hurt.

"Oww!" he protested, hurriedly pushing himself up to diminished the pressure on his ear. "Let go!"

Eeth, however, did no such thung. He pulled Lok up close to himself by the ear and said quietly and firmly: "I have no idea whether you intend to fall back into the kind of behaviour that you displayed on our trip to Mahau. If you do, I advise you to reconsider. I will not tolerate any of it. Nor will I allow you to be disrespectful and disobedient towards a knight who has been asked to teach you. And I think we have established before that you will most certainly not try to walk out on me."

Now, he finally released his hold on Lok's ear. Lok's hand shot up, rubbing it to ease the burn.

"I am going to ask you again now," Eeth said brusquely. "What was going on there? Or, more precisely, what did you think you were doing?"

"Nothing," Lok said sullenly. "I just didn't like the way you were pushing me off onto her, nor did I like the way she was treating me like a small child."

"Given your behaviour, I can hardly fault her for that," Eeth said acerbically. Lok flinched. Eeth rarely made cutting remarks like this, and when he did, that usually meant he was seriously fed up. Rationally, Lok knew that this was where he needed to back off, fast. He could not resist the temptation to get one back at Eeth, though.

"Why should I act respectfully when you can't even be bothered to have a workout with me?" he asked and added: "Jerad never asked other people to teach me just because he felt his time was too valuable for that."

As soon as he had said it, he knew that he had made a mistake. Eeth's eyes narrowed and became even darker than usual if that was at all possible. He did not say a word, though. He merely glared at Lok until the boy started squirming. He knew his remark had been stupid. He also knew that Eeth was waiting for an apology. But for some reason, he could not bring himself to utter one.

The silence between them stretched on and on. The longer it lasted, the more determined Lok became not to be the first to speak. Eeth, on the other hand, seemed to have no such concerns.

"I am sure it has not escaped your attention that I am not Jerad," he finally said in a low, stern voice that raised the hairs on the back of Lok's neck. "Nor do I take kindly to attempts at emotional blackmail. Which is another thing that we have already established. Alright. You want my attention, I will give it to you. I doubt that you will be thankful for it, but then, we have had this conversation before. If you refuse to learn your lesson the first time, you have only yourself to blame."

Lok suddenly remembered that they had indeed had a similar type of run-in during their disastrous trip to Mahau. Eeth had offered Lok to have his workout with Lakhri and Flynt, rather than Eeth, and Lok had responded by being quite rude. This had resulted in Eeth putting him through an absolutely horrifying workout that had left him thoroughly exhausted and his muscles sore. He realised that he ought to have avoided a repeat occurrence at all cost, rather than behaving like an ass towards first Satii and then Eeth, but that realisation came a little too late.

Lok soon found out that Eeth could do even worse than he had done on their trip to Mahau. Of course, his master had never taken kindly to repeat offences. Nor had Jerad, for that matter. Unfortunately, Lok was left with no energy to pursue that line of thought because Eeth seemed determined to run him ragged. Lok gritted his teeth and persevered. By the time Eeth was through with him, however, he was seeing stars and felt about ready to puke. Eeth, on the other hand, while sweating and slightly out of breath, seemed fine which was adding insult to injury.

"You killed me," Lok croaked, lying on the floor and gasping for breath.

"Nonsense," Eeth said, gazing down on him. "I punished you. You might not feel too well right now, but that is the nature of punishment. Do you understand what you were punished for, though?"

Lok closed his eyes and coughed convulsively. Then he propped himself up on his elbow and gulped down half a bottle of water.

"You don't seriously think I'm able to understand anything right now, do you?" he brought out.

"Unless you want further punishment, you had better make an effort," Eeth said matter-of-factly.

Lok scowled. He did not currently think it wise to call Eeth a bully to his face, though, nor did he desire "further punishment." Therefore, he tried to pull himself together and come up with what Eeth presumably wanted to hear.

"I was disrespectful towards Knight Satii and you. I didn't always obey her instructions,or at least not the first time. I didn't make an effort for her, and I tried to walk out on you," he said. Eeth continued to look at him expectantly. Lok wracked his brain for what else to say. Suddenly, it came to him.

"Oh," he said. "I… I was trying to make you feel bad for not being like Jerad. I'm sorry. I really am. That was mean." He was surprised to hear that his voice was breaking. Of course, that might be a normal side effect of adolescence, but he was not so sure. He swiped his sleeve across his face; it was sweaty enough to justify such an action, after all. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself leaning against Eeth's chest and Eeth's arm wrapped around him and he started to cry.

* * *

"Why do I keep doing that?" he asked a few minutes later when he had finally managed to calm down. He was still leaning against Eeth's chest, though, and was not in a hurry to get up.

"What, crying? I think the answer should be obvious," Eeth replied calmly. "Or were you particularly tearful before Jerad died?"

Lok sighed. "No," he admitted.

They fell silent. After a while, Eeth said: "When I started taking care of you, I made sure to free myself of other obligations so I could devote all my attention to you. You needed it. However, this cannot go on indefinitely. The more you are healing, the more often there will be times at which other needs are more urgent. I expect you to accept that, just as I expect you to accept other teachers occasionally. I am not doing this to get rid of you and you know it."

Lok sighed again. "I do," he said. "It just didn't feel that way."

"Then you will have to work on your feelings," Eeth said. "And ask for help if you cannot manage on your own. Incidentally, this is exactly why I am making you do additional meditations, much as you resent them."

"Do you always have to be right?" Lok asked wearily. "This is not making things any easier on me, you know? Being stuck with the master who's always right?"

This actually made Eeth laugh.


	25. Chapter 25: Lok

Tovar was mostly a mining colony, with some farming to sustain the miners. Apparently, the Force-sensitive baby girl whom Eeth and Lok were meant to retrieve lived on a farm. She had been discovered by a travelling Jedi who had had gained her parents' consent to take her to the Temple, but had had no opportunity to take her himself. The information Eeth had received beyond that was rather sketchy. The child's mother was a farm hand, the father a miner who had been present at the time to help with the harvest. The farm was home to a large number of human men, women and children some of whom were related to the owners while others were working for them. Household structures on Tovar were complex. It seemed that the girl's parents were fairly poor and she was their fourth child which had probably made it easier for them to make up their minds and give the Jedi permission to raise her.

"The closest I can take you to the place is Mashoo," Satii said, pointing to a place on the map that was displayed on the cockpit screen. "The distance is at least 200 kilometres. But anything closer is hills, swamps or farmland. We probably wouldn't make ourselves popular if we landed our ship in the middle of their crops."

Eeth smiled a little. "No, probably not," he said. "Well, it should not be too hard to rent a speeder in Mashoo."

Satii nodded. "I'll wait for you there, then," she said.

"Well, at least we'll get to do a little exploring," Lok pointed out, trying not to sound too excited. This might be a backwater colony, but any chance at getting to see something of the planet was still better than just grabbing the baby and returning to Coruscant.

Eeth gave him another small smile. "It seems so," he said. "If there are no complications, we will not spend more than a day on the planet, though, but we will at least get to see some scenery."

* * *

The scenery turned out to be quite beautiful. Lok wasn't interested, though.

"I swear you're the coolest master ever," he said enthusiastically, accelerating so fast that the fields on their right and left turned into yellow and green blurs.

"A few days ago, I was the most rigid and inflexible master in the entire Temple, according to you" Eeth remarked drily. "Now, that will be fast enough. I know you have taken a driving class, but you are lacking practice."

Lok did not protest that assessment. He was still exhilarated that Eeth was actually letting him drive. Apparently, this planet did not have any age restrictions in place which made it possible for Eeth to be both rigid about the rules and cool about letting Lok drive. Lok had never before been allowed to do so outside the simulators and he knew what a privilege it was. Therefore, he obligingly stuck to the speed limit Eeth set him and followed all the advice his master gave. Even so, the journey was shorter than he had hoped for. After a little more than an hour, a large expanse of farm buildings came into view in front of them.

"Can I drive on the ride back, too?" he asked eagerly.

"We will see," said Eeth. "It depends on the needs of the child and on how alert you are."

"Awww," Lok said in disappointment. "I'm not tired!"

"Hmm," said Eeth noncommittally. Lok was about to protest, but as he parker the speeder and got out and his exhilaration wore off a little, he realised that driving at high speed and staying focussed all the time had indeed been quite taxing. He even had a bit of a headache.

"Are you feeling alright?" Eeth asked him as they made their way towards the main gate.

'Now how did he know that?' Lok thought in consternation. 'Damn his perceptiveness!' He knew that his chances at getting to drive the speeder back would be decidedly slim if he admitted to having a headache, so he merely shrugged and said casually: "Yeah, why shouldn't I be?"

The politely incredulous look Eeth gave him in return had "Suit yourself" written all over it. This annoyed Lok quite a bit, and it was with a scowl on his face that he followed Eeth through the gate. Just as they were about to enter, Eeth stopped and turned.

"You are getting into one of those moods again, aren't you?" he inquired.

"I don't know what you mean," Lok replied slightly aggressively.

"It is exactly that belligerent tone of voice which I mean," said Eeth. "I do not think I have given you any reason for it. Can you reign it in somehow? We are about to do the one thing we came here for, and that means it would be the worst possible moment for you to start looking for a fight with me."

Lok opened his mouth to deny that he was doing any such thing, but closed it again. He probably _was_ in one of those moods, he realised. Eeth had given him no cause for complaint, he had even allowed him to fly a speeder. And the man was entirely right in saying that Lok needed to reign in his temper.

"Sorry, master," he said in a small voice. "I… I have a slight headache, is all."

"I thought so," said Eeth drily. "The next time, just tell me right away when I ask."

He rested a hand on Lok's head, and after a few moments, the headache died down. Lok had forgotten how Eeth was at healing. He felt rather silly not to have asked for this in the first place.

"Thank you, master," he said, and he meant it. "I'll pull myself together. Promise."

Eeth gave him a small smile. "Thank you," he said gently. "Let's go, then."

They had not made it four steps past the gate when a pack of barking… animals that Lok had never seen jumped at them. They might have been dogs, only they did not have fur and had six legs. Their teeth looked sharp enough, however. Lok made to pull his saber, but Eeth flung out an arm to stop him.

"Just stand still," he said. "These are Tvonakls. Very popular in farming colonies. They act as a kind of doorbell and keep intruders out. As long as we don't attempt to advance further, they will leave us alone."

"How will we get to the farm, then?" Lok asked disdainfully, fingering the hilt of his saber. "This is silly. Do you really think we can't fend them off?"

"Of course we can," Eeth said impatiently. "But not without killing them, and that will hardly make us popular with the farm folk. We simply wait until someone comes and lets us in. They'll leave us alone then."

"Oh," said Lok with a sigh. "Alright then." The Tvonakl did not keep their eyes off them which made him very uncomfortable. Fortunately, true to Eeth's prediction, a young lad about fifteen years of age came running up to them. Eeth introduced themselves. Fortunately, the boy knew immediately who they were and what they had come for. "We had no idea when you would show up, though," he said apologetically. "Sorry for the unfriendly welcome."

He shooed the Tvonakl off and they left willingly.

"They won't bother you further," the boy assured Eeth and Lok as he led them down a path between orchards towards a jumble of houses, stables and huts. "I'm Bart, by the way. The farmer's youngest son. I'll see where I can find her. And Marla and her baby. It's all a bit busy at the moment, lots of animals are just having their young ones and need looking after."

"I'm sorry if we intruded," Eeth said politely. "I sent a message yesterday and another one this morning, but they might not have reached you."

"Oh, those always take two or three days to deliver and sometimes they don't arrive at all," Bart explained. "This is not exactly Coruscant, as you can see. But never mind. Cheela! Munira!"

They had arrived at a farm yard full of bird-like creatures on two legs that were picking for grains. Two girls came running up to Bart.

"Cheela, go and search my mother," Bart told them. "Munira, find Marla and her baby. They're needed in the farm house."

He led Eeth and Lok along among the birds that lazily fluttered aside, just enough to make them way, into the main building. The door opened right into a huge kitchen where a young man was stirring something that was bubbling in a pot and couple of children were setting a gigantic long table that was easily large enough for thirty people.

Bart led them to an alcove that held a smaller table and offered them seats.

"I'll get you some drinks," he said. "What would you like? Water? Beer? Fresh mawqaert juice?"

Lok gave Eeth a questioning look. He supposed beer was out of the question, but he had no idea what mawqaert juice was and whether it was safe for Zabrak do drink.

"Mawqaert is fine, padawan, if you want to try it," Eeth told him.

"Alright, I'll have one, then," said Lok.

"Just water for me, please," said Eeth.

Bart had just brought them their drinks when a tall, sturdily-built woman marched through the door. Eeth estimated her age somewhere between forty and fifty. It was immediately clear that she was in charge here.

"Mother," said Bart, jumping up respectfully. Eeth rose as well and beckoned for Lok to do the same.

"Greetings," said the woman in a businesslike, but not unfriendly manner. "I'm Channa Kutno, the owner of this farm. So you are the Jedi sent to retrieve Marla's baby? We'd hoped to be informed of your arrival because the child's father is not usually at the farm during this season. He wanted to be there for the occasion, you know."

"I apologise," Eeth said politely. "We did send messages, but not soon enough, it seems. Nobody informed us that we would need to send them sooner. There must have been a miscommunication. Will it be possible to fetch the child's father? We will be glad to be of assistance if that helps."

"No, we can send someone, but the question is, can you wait?" asked Channa. "It'll take a day to fetch him here. Two if he can't swap shifts right away. Sorry for that, but I wouldn't want to deprive him of the opportunity to say goodbye if at all possible."

"No, of course not," said Eeth. "We can wait. Shall we return to our our ship which is stationed in Mashoo in the meanwhile? We don't want to impose on you."

"Oh, we like having guests," Channa said decisively. Behind her, Bart's enthusiastic grin confirmed that she was telling the truth. "We could find a place to sleep for you if you aren't keen on luxury," she continued. "You'd be welcome to stay. We won't be able to wait on you, but there's certainly enough to feed two more."

"The Jedi padawan could stay in my room," Bart offered excitedly. "Then his master could have the spare bed on the attic."

"Thank you," Eeth said gravely. "We are certainly not seeking luxury. In fact, we are quite willing to make ourselves useful."

Channa made to reply, but was distracted by the arrival of a young woman who was wearing a baby in a sling on her back.

"Marla!" she said. "Come here. These are the two Jedi sent to retrieve your baby. We've just agreed that I'll send someone to fetch Jammal. Bart, can you see to it? But be quick about it, lunch is in ten minutes."

"Sure thing," said Bart cheerfully. "Lok, wanna come? "

Lok gave Eeth a questioning look. Eeth nodded at him to go ahead. "Use your comlink and call Satii," he told him in an undertone. "I will talk to Marla in the meanwhile. I will see you in a moment."

Lok nodded in acknowledgement and followed Bart outside. "To be honest, this is brilliant," he said. "I haven't been off-planet for ages except for one really disastrous trip right into a civil war that I could really have done without."

"Really?" asked Bart. "I thought this farm was about the most boring thing that could happen to you as a Jedi."

"No, it's the complete opposite of Coruscant," said Lok. "I've never even been to an actual farm, I think. I mean, not a _farm_ farm. An agricultural factory, yes. A farm, no. It's great."

It became a little less great when he and Bart returned to the main farmhouse, having found Bart's older sister Enke who agreed to drive to the mines and fetch Jammal, but, unfortunately, having got so caught up in talking and looking around that they arrived a quarter of an hour late and Lok had clean forgotten to call Satii. Bart managed to mollify his mother by explaining that he had showed their guest around a little and that Enke had been hard to find, but Eeth was not as easily mollified. He refrained from scolding Lok in public, but the surge of disapproval that he sent through their bond was scathing. He pointed Lok to a free chair at the long table and told him to serve himself, then went outside to make the call himself. Lok looked after him, grimacing. He was not sure this was the end of it.

"Is he pissed?" Bart whispered, sitting down beside him and taking Lok's bowl to ladle some stew into it.

"I think so," murmured Lok. "He hates it when people are late. More importantly, I was supposed to call our pilot, but I was so busy talking to you that I forgot."

"Oops," said Bart, grimacing. "Yeah, my mum would hate that, too. I hope he doesn't give you a hard time about it."

"Not too sure about that," said Lok. "He wouldn't do it in public, anyway, unless I went out of my way to annoy him. He might just wait until he can have a private word with me."

And indeed, when the table was lifted, Eeth approached Lok and said quietly: "A word with you, padawan. Come."

He led Lok to the alcove where they had sat earlier while Bart, giving Lok a smile of encouragement, went to help some other youngsters clear the table and wash the dishes.

"Padawan, if I cannot rely on you to keep a trivial instruction in mind for more than ten seconds, how will I be able to entrust you with any amount of responsibility during missions?" Eeth scolded. "And you know I have no patience for tardiness."

"Well, I'm not usually late," Lok defended himself, which was true. "Bart wanted to show me around and I though it would have been impolite to refuse. Or to pull out my comlink and interrupt him to make a phone call. Okay, and then I forgot, but I wouldn't have forgotten for long, and it's not as if it was a life-or-death situation or anything. C'mon, I said I'm sorry."

"Yes, and I said I am less than pleased," Eeth retorted, his glare intensifying. "I expect you to take responsibility for your mistakes instead of making feeble excuses."

Lok did not really know what to say to that which annoyed him. "Oh, knock it off," he said, feeling quite irritated. "Do you need to make such a big deal out of everything?"

Eeth's mouth pressed into a thin line. This was probably the point at which Lok should have started back-pedalling fast, but the knowledge that they were barely out of sight of Bart and the others, and definitely out of earshot, spurred him on and also made him feel relatively safe from immediate retribution.

When Eeth simply continued glaring at him without saying a word, Lok finally said loftily: "Okay, I take that as a 'no.' Can I go, then? Hrrrghhh!" He was only just able to suppress a yelp as he suddenly found himself gripped by the ear, pulled downwards and tucked under Eeth's arm. A split-second later, Eeth's hand came down onto the seat of his pants, and the swat was as hard as they could get. Lok was sure that it could be heard all over the kitchen. He pressed his lips together, trying to ensure that this was the only thing that could be heard. Unfortunately, Eeth did not stop after one swat. They kept coming, slowly, but steadily. Lok started breathing heavily and shifting from foot to foot; he realised that this was soon going to become very embarrassing.

"Master, please!" he hissed. "Nggh! I'm sorrieeee! I should have - ungh - apologised properly! Ahhhh! I'm SORRYuuuuuh! Please, I know I was wronggggggg!"

This was humiliating, but not as humiliating as it would be to end up wailing like a toddler for all the farm to hear, as he knew was a very likely outcome if he continued being stubborn.

"Very well," said Eeth calmly, releasing his hold on him. "A proper apology, then."

He gave his red-faced, panting padawan an impassive look that clearly told Lok he had better make this apology convincing or there would be a very embarrassing sequel to what had just happened.

"I'm sorry, master," he said in a much-subdued tone of voice. "I shouldn't have allowed myself to get carried away. I shouldn't have forgotten to make that call and I shouldn't have been late for lunch. I know my duty should come first and I neglected that."

The expectant look was still there, and Lok racked his brain for what else to say. "I should have accepted your reprimand instead of giving you an attitude over it," he finally added. "Sorry."

Eeth nodded. "Apology accepted," he said. "Believe it or not, it was not my intention to make a big deal out of this. But when you are the one who clearly made a mistake, I will not have any of your attempts to talk your way out of it or become insolent about it. Am I clear on that?"

Lok suppressed a sigh and nodded. "Yes, master," he said contritely. His bottom was already smarting; there was no way he wanted to risk round two.

"Alright," said Eeth. "You may go and join Bart, but make sure to offer your help. He is bound to be busy at this season."

Bart was drying the dishes when Lok came to join him.

"Can I help?" asked Lok dutifully and was immediately handed a tea towel.

"Did he whale on you?" asked Bart in an undertone.

"What?" Lok asked in consternation.

"Well, unless he took his anger out on a pillow, it sounded a lot like he did," Bart said apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. You needn't be. My mum can be like that, too. We've got loads of work on the farm and she has no patience with people who forget stuff."

"But aren't you, I dunno, a little old for that?" asked Lok.

Bart shrugged. "I don't think my mum thinks so," he said. "I've managed to avoid being on her bad side for a long while now, though. To be fair, for something like this, with no harm done, she probably would merely have scolded and sent me off to do some work."

"Okay, well, actually, I guess my master would have done something like that as well," Lok admitted, "only I became flippant with him and that's a really bad idea, especially when you're already in trouble to begin with. I might have thought I'd be safe 'cause he doesn't usually spank me in front of an audience unless I mouth off to him too badly. So I probably shouldn't have."

He smiled at Bart as he dried the last jug and placed it on a counter from where a younger girl took the dried things to put them away.

"It's alright," he said. "It did hurt, but I guess I deserved it. The Jedi are strict as a rule, and they don't come any stricter than my master. Just my luck."

His grin belied his words, though.

* * *

Lok spent quite a happy afternoon following Bart all over the farm and helping him with various tasks. He did not usually mind doing chores, and right now he minded them even less because the chores were all new to him, varied a lot and he could do them in pleasant company. He got to talk to a lot of other people on the farm, too. Once, he caught a glimpse of his master carrying a baby on his back while plucking apples which looked so funny that he had to laugh out loud. Eeth acted as if it was entirely natural, though. He had briefly introduced Lok to Marla and the child which, according to local custom, was still unnamed. Marla was shy, thin and surprisingly young for a woman who had had her fourth child. The baby had been sleeping at the time and Lok, who was supremely disinterested in babies, had done no more than throw a cursory look at her and politely complimented Marla that she was very pretty. Then he had left with Bart to feed the banthas.

Fortunately for him, Bart took care to get them inside in time for dinner. While they washed their hands and faces at a sink, it occurred to Lok that Eeth and he didn't have any spare clothes or toiletries since they had not planned on spending the night. He told Bart who said that this was not going to be a problem.

"There are dozens of people on this farm. We'll find tunics for you or whatever you need," he said. "And we've got a whole cupboard full of soap, toothbrushes and so on. Everybody just serves themselves. I'll show you after dinner."

During dinner, Lok got the strong impression that Eeth had made himself extremely popular with the farm folk, and he had to grin as he observed his master's attempt to hide how uncomfortable that made him feel. Apparently, Eeth had not only carried Marla's baby around for a couple of hours to give her mother some rest, plucking apples in the meanwhile, he had also helped Bart's older brother Conn repair a tractor and then put his considerable strength to use by helping the farm hands move a wall constructed of large boulders. As a result, Eeth ended up being the focus of attention during dinner. By the time the main course was served, he was holding Marla's baby on his lap; Channa presented him with extra dessert; and while Lok and Bart helped clear the table, Eeth was dragged off to join a large group of farm workers in their card game, all the while having to answer questions about life as a Jedi. It was priceless. Lok dearly wished he could have filmed it and showed it to his padawan siblings; they would have had a blast.

After dinner seemed to be the time when everyone had free time and socialised. Lok was dragged into a ball game with a group of boys around Bart's age who were duly impressed with his reflexes while Eeth played cards for a while. When darkness began to fall and Lok came inside, however, Eeth was not there any longer.

"He's with Marla," said Channa. "Bart can show you."

Lok suddenly felt guilty. After all, it was their task to retrieve the baby and bring it to Coruscant, but he had not done more than throw a cursory look at the child whereas Eeth definitely took the whole thing seriously. Maybe that was because it _was_ actually serious, Lok realised. It was a real baby and she would really be taken away from her mother. Eeth knew that and tried to make the transition easier on both while Lok had spent the day having fun.

Bart showed him to a jumble of huts that hosted the families of farm workers. He knocked at one of the doors, and after a brief moment, a female voice called: "Come in!"

Lok sidled inside and found Eeth sitting on a chair next to what seemed to be the only bed in here. Granted, it was a very large bed. Marla was sitting in the middle, with three children snuggling up to her. None of them could be older than four or so. Eeth was holding the baby to his shoulder, rocking her gently and telling the children a story while he did so. This was so unexpected that Lok simply stood still and stared. Eeth acknowledged him with his eyes and nudged him through their bond to take a seat. Hesitantly, Lok pulled out a chair from the table and sat next to Eeth. The baby, who was wide awake, looked at him curiously, and he smiled at her. Without interrupting his story - something about sand monsters - Eeth lifted her from his shoulder and handed her to Lok who, for the first time in his life, found himself with a baby on his lap.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they walked back to the farm house.

"Look, master, I – I'm sorry," Lok said a little hesitantly. "I should have cared more about our mission and made an effort to look after the baby, like you did. I realised tonight that I was rather egoistic."

Eeth looked down on him, his eyes crinkling a little. "Thank you, padawan," he said calmly. "If I had absolutely required your help, I would have told you. I do not begrudge you the time you spend with your peers, and from what I heard, you made yourself useful. Nevertheless, I am glad you have been thinking about your priorities."

"I had no idea you were so good with children," Lok said honestly. "It's not like you at all somehow. Where did you learn it?"

Eeth raised his eyebrows. "It is not as hard as you make it sound, padawan," he said with dignity. "I have had numerous occasions in my life that allowed me to interact with children, starting with the creche duty that my master imposed on me. I have retrieved a number of Force-sensitive children over the years. I also got to spend some time with Raven's birth family when she was fifteen. Her youngest sister, who was four at the time, took a liking to me."

Lok grinned. "I expect you were overjoyed."

Eeth was silent for a moment. Then he said: "I admit it made me uncomfortable at first. But I grew accustomed to it. It did require an effort, but since when is that a reason to refrain from doing something?"

Lok laughed. "Spoken like a true Jedi," he said. "Or rather, spoken like my master. Say, do you know anything about my birth family? My creche master and Jerad always told me to wait until I'm older. Not that I asked very often. I'm just curious."

Eeth gave him a scrutinising look. Finally, he said: "That part of a padawan's file has to be specifically requested from the archives. Until now, I have not done so. However, I would be willing to look at it with you. I think you are at a stage of your development where you will be able to handle it. You are aware that it might or might not be pleasant?"

Lok shrugged. "Yeah. I know some Jedi were abandoned by their families because of their unusual abilities. And, of course, we come from all kinds of backgrounds, some loving, some less so. If it turns out my parents are unknown or they kicked me out or something, I can deal with it. I'd just be interested to know."

"Alright," said Eeth. "When we are back, we will find out."


	26. Chapter 26

I'm sorry I'm being so slow with this story. Real life has caught up with me. Plus, I've been spending some time co-writing stories with Raven. We started posting our work on . If you like, check it out:

s/12852680/1/A-Padawan-a-Master-and-a-Matchmaker


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